A Simple Kind of Love
by Moment For Life
Summary: After her engagement to Cal ends, Rose finds herself travelling home alone on Titanic. A re-write of a very old story of mine. Complete.
1. Escaping Paris

**A re-write of an old story of mine from back in 2008. This definitely needed an update, a sort through and perhaps a slight change of plot. I was 16-17 when I wrote this so looking back 8 years at my writing I kind of cringe and kind of cannot believe what ideas went through my brain! I do hope you enjoy, some of you may remember this and others may not but either way thanks for reading.**

 **A Simple Kind of Love**

 **Chapter one: Escaping Paris**

 **April 9, 1912**

London was a lonely place. The weather was cold and wet, but they did say the showers fell in April. The nights were long and some of the most boring times she could remember. For Rose DeWitt Bukater, this was something new. She had never been alone at night before, especially in a hotel in a city she had never before traveled to. The hotel, however, was simply beautiful. It was a five-star in the heart of London and was world famous. The Ritz. The whispers amongst the corridors as she had checked in alone were not unheard and so she had kept her head down and carried on. She had as much right to be here in this hotel as the other guests.

Rose's heart beat faster than ever before, it seemed, as she lay in the darkness and saw the unfamiliar shadows which the trees outside the window cast across the walls, as if an unknown shape was walking past. The bed seemed hard and uncomfortable and the pillow was cold and unwelcoming. The whole city seemed unwelcoming. Or maybe it was just her. For tomorrow, she would set sail alone for the first time on the maiden voyage of the Titanic. She had tried but failed to sail on another ship a little less attractive, but because of the coal strike in England at the moment, she was forced to take a first class ticket aboard the ship.

Rose DeWitt Bukater was just seventeen years old. She was born and raised in Philadelphia by her mother, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, and her father, Richard Bukater. Her beloved father had passed away when she was just eleven. As Rose had grown, she had attracted attention from various males wishing to court her, but her mother had refused, much to Rose's delight.

Although that story had later seemed to change.

It was a Wednesday evening, December nineteenth, when Caledon Hockley had asked permission to dine with the DeWitt Bukaters when they all attended a ball at the country club. Mr. Hockley was very handsome and dashing, tall and with perfect black hair. Rose had thought her heart had skipped a beat when he had asked permission to court her. He had been twenty-eight and she was not quite sixteen, but that hadn't seemed to matter. Especially to Ruth, Rose's mother, who couldn't have been more delighted about the match. Mr. Hockley was a rich man. His father, Nathan Hockley, was a steel tycoon and one of the wealthiest men in the country at the time. Caledon was set to inherit the money when he married. Rose had been affected by this man. She was flattered by his affections and thought she had grown to love him in some way. Not the way which love in the storybooks of her teenage years described but sure enough it was something of the sort. He treated her the way she had always wanted to be treated by a man; like a grown woman.

Rose's seventeenth birthday had come in January of 1912, and Caledon Hockley had proposed to her. As happy as she was to court this rich, handsome man, as he bent on one knee, holding the most expensive-looking diamond ring she had ever laid eyes on in the box held out to her, she had felt somewhat trapped. She felt she had some sort of feelings for this man, but marriage at just seventeen? Other women of her age were happy wives and mothers already. Maybe she had just felt selfish for thinking of herself too much. What could getting engaged mean?

Rose had said yes and placed the diamond on her finger. It was beautiful, she had to admit, and probably cost enough to feed a few small countries, but to Cal, that didn't seem to matter. All he wanted and seemed to need, was her. As soon as the ring was placed on her finger, she had felt as though she was a dog wearing a dog collar for the first time. A dog collar which marked who the dog belonged to. A ring to show who Rose now belonged to, in body and mind. After ignoring the initial feelings of entrapment, Rose had begun to shove those feelings to the back of her mind and continued on with her life. Her mother, Ruth, had never been so happy about anything in her life, it seemed. It was then that the wedding began to be planned around her. Everything from her long, lace ivory dress to the color of the seating was planned around her. Rose felt as though it wasn't her wedding. She felt like an actress in some play. She didn't feel like herself anymore. At times, she was even ignored by Caledon while this wedding was planned. She felt as though she wanted to scream just to have a small amount of attention, but even if she did muster up the courage to scream, she feared she would still be ignored and the people would continue to work and plan around her.

In late February, Caledon had announced that he would take Rose around Europe on a trip as an engagement present before they would return to the States to marry. At the thought of this, Rose had been excited beyond belief. She had never been on a ship before and never been to Europe. The pair had boarded the Mauretania in New York early in the morning of February 19, 1912. Their journey around Europe had taken them to Spain and France. Cal had planned to head to England, Ireland, and then to Athens, Greece.

But they never made to it England together.

During their three-week trip to France, Cal had changed somehow. During their entire vacation he had been trying to get her into bed, but Rose had put him off, stating that they should wait until they were married, which was something Rose had been looking forward to at one point in her engagement.

It was one night at the Moulin Rouge which had changed everything.

 **April 1, 1912**

Rose DeWitt Bukater held out her arm as her maid, Trudy, proceeded to fasten the diamond-encrusted bracelet onto her wrist. Next came the necklace to match. The weight of the jewelry around her neck felt as though it would choke her. The mirror in the vanity unit reflected Rose, a girl of just seventeen and yet she felt years older.

Her long red hair was twisted up into a tight bun and held in place by several pins. Her eyes were a deep blue and her skin was pale porcelain. She was the picture of her mother, Ruth with slight blends of her father. Her evening gown was black and covered in pearls. She felt as though she was royalty. She felt as though she was a woman of great importance in the world. But she knew she wasn't. She was just a young woman, barely even a woman, who was engaged to the great Caledon Hockley.

Tonight they were to don their best clothes to see a cabaret at the world famous Moulin Rouge. The French artist, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, had made the Moulin Rouge popular around the world from his amazing artwork. Rose owned a piece at home in Philadelphia. To just look at the art and see the Moulin Rouge had made Rose want to come here many times in her young life. Cal knew of her obsession with art, so this was his gift to her. He knew of the reputation of the Moulin Rouge, he knew of the prostitutes who had worked there at the turn of the century, and who knew if it was any better now? But this was what Rose wanted and he wanted tonight to be special for her. The door clicked open and Cal appeared in the doorway and startled Rose. There he was, dressed perfectly in a tuxedo. Rose forced the best smile she could onto her face. Even though she was to go to the place she'd dreamed of for years, she couldn't help but feel smothered and sick. She almost wanted to vomit, but she put on a brave face for her husband-to-be, which was something she had grown quite used to.

The Moulin Rouge was in the Paris red light district of Pigalle. It was famous for being the birthplace of the can-can dance. The cabaret was full of sensual dancers, singers, and actors. They all seemed larger than life and more in your face than anything Rose had ever seen before in her life but she couldn't help but get into the spirit of it all. The women of the cabaret wore raunchy dresses uplifting their cleavage and making the men of the audience swoon. Cal had encountered discomfort early on and had wanted to leave since just after the show had begun. When Rose refused to budge, he had up and left without a word. She had thought of joining him but why should she? This had been the only thing which they had done for her during the entire trip.

The show itself had inspired Rose. The raunchiness had opened Rose's eyes a lot to what life as a showgirl at the Moulin Rouge was like. A life which she found herself actually yearning for. She had felt ever so out of place in her beautiful gown and perfect posture. Rose had wondered for many years what it would be like to just slouch, just once, in a public place. The entire party would gasp and it would cause uproar. The show had ended just after midnight and the respectable Mr. Caledon Hockley had been found in the chambers of Madame Amelle. Drunk and half-clothed, he had been thrown onto the streets as Rose had been leaving. The stench of absinthe on his breathe and his half-clothed body were enough to make Rose attempt to move away from him, but her attempts to escape were useless. When they had reached their hotel room, Cal had ordered Rose to undress for bed, and when she hadn't done as she was told, he had raised his hand to her and cut her lip. It was the first time Cal had ever laid hands on her and the first time Rose had ever been hit. She didn't like blood. Why was he doing this?

"Come on, Rose. Take off your clothes. You're happy to see other women do it and you seem to enjoy it, so why won't you do it now?" Cal's voice seem to echo into the dark room of the hotel.

He forced Rose from the floor to her feet and held her against the wall. She could feel her own heartbeat in her ears and had never felt so much fear. She just wanted a big hole to swallow her up and take her away from this hell.

"Why are you doing this, Cal? You were the one who went to bed with a whore."

A sting came around Rose's cheek as she felt his hand strike her sharply. After that, he let her go and began to wander around the hotel room, somewhat absentmindedly as though he didn't know what he was doing.

"Don't speak to me like that, Rose."

Rose watched him go and had wondered whether to make a run for the door to get out, but she knew he would follow her. She knew it. She was too afraid to speak. Too shocked for words and in too much in pain to move from the floor where she sat, tears running from her eyes. Violence was never the answer to anything, Rose had always thought. It was a way of being punished. But why was she being punished for loving this man?

"Why are you doing this, Cal? I have never hurt you."

Her voice seemed scared, like that of a small child. A bitter laugh came from Cal as he opened a bottle of whiskey and downed almost half of it. He could taste the burning of the liquid in his throat and he thought he would vomit.

"You don't disobey me, Rose. I am your husband in practice. You honor me. You don't make a fool out of me."

"You made a fool out of yourself, Cal. You went to bed with a woman who wasn't even your fiancée."

Rose found inner strength and stability from somewhere to stand. She looked at the man she had once thought she loved and stared with contempt and disbelief.

"How could I go to bed with my fiancée when she wouldn't let me? This is your fault. Now it's your punishment."

With that, Cal swooped Rose from her feet and carried her kicking and screaming to his bed. His stench was vile and when he tried to kiss her, she squirmed away.

What was wrong with him?

"Cal. Stop. Please stop."

Cal just laughed at her whimpers of desperation. He would get what he wanted, whether she liked it or not. He pulled violently at her corset strings as she attempted to move from under him. He pinned her down strongly with his legs and one arm. He was strong, and it seemed the strength of the alcohol had added to it. Tears spilled from her eyes as she didn't know what was happening. Her back was to him and she could hear his muttering of curse words and feel his dreaded touch. He hitched up her skirts and began to pull at her stockings.

"No. No! Get off me, Cal."

Rose attempted once again to kick him away, but he just covered her mouth with his dirty hands. Tears spilled from her eyes and she panicked. She wished someone would just walk in or he would just stop. She had never felt so much pain in her life. She wished she could give him the same pain in return and then she thought of something. Cal continued to struggle with her corset as Rose opened her mouth slightly and bit as hard as she could on the finger which Cal had over her mouth. He backed right off and moaned with pain.

"You little-!" he stormed, and then more violently threw himself at her. She panicked and rolled over from her back onto her stomach, raised her legs, and kicked his chest. Cal stumbled backwards. In a few seconds, she saw him stumbling back towards her. Rose had never seen her life flash before her eyes before. She reached for the first thing which seemed possible to reach and hit him over the head with it. It was a glass vase. Blood poured everywhere. Rose could also taste the blood from biting his finger. She screamed a little, seeing the scene she had just caused. It seemed too violent to be reality.

Scanning the room, Rose saw blood and pieces of her dress, which he had torn away. She sat in just her corset and stockings, which were torn. Reality kicked in. Rose knew she had to get out. Cal lay stone cold unconscious on the bed. She quickly found her suitcase and packed in it what she thought she would need. Her breathing was quick and she was dizzy from hyperventilation, but she knew she couldn't stop for a second. He could awaken soon. She packed a few dresses and stockings, her perfume, lipstick, brush, a few select pieces of jewelry and three pairs of shoes. That would be fine until she was home with her mother. Pinning up her hair and changing into a more comfortable dress, Rose raided the safe and was shocked by what she found. A gun. She had no idea Cal even carried a gun with him. Would he have killed her?

Just then, Rose realized she held no remorse for what she had done. She took all of the money in the safe, which totaled almost ten thousand dollars. He owed her that, at least. With that, she left the hotel room, shaking, shivering, and unsure of what to do next. She knew she had to leave the country and somehow get home. But it was almost two in the morning. How could she do that?

After wandering the city endlessly for what seemed like days, Rose found a train station when daylight came. She boarded a train for the coast and never looked back.

Then she reached London

The clock ticked endlessly on the bedside cabinet, the wind blew heavily, and the rain tapped on the window. Rose's heartbeat grew faster again. She sat upright in bed, turned on the small lamp beside the bed, and gazed at the clock. It was just after eleven and she could not sleep. On the dresser hung Rose's boarding dress, hat, and shoes. She had bought them here in London and hoped the large mauve hat would hide her face the next day while boarding, for it would be a huge social event and the press would be there, too. Rose was nervous about boarding a ship alone, especially after what had happened, but she was glad to be free. She had already telegrammed her mother, telling her she would be returning home without Cal, but didn't give a reason why. She couldn't wait to be at home, but most of all, she hoped that Cal would never come to her again. She hoped she would never lay eyes on him again. She could still feel the pain from what he had caused her, even though it was over a week ago. She wondered where Cal was, what he was doing, and what his intentions really were towards her that last night. She knew they were sexual.

A hundred thoughts ran through Rose's mind, mostly of what would happen the next day. She had so many doubts about boarding a ship alone, but she was also excited that she would be witnessing history as she boarded the largest moving object ever made by man.


	2. Adjusting To A New Life

**Thank you very much for the comments. I am so glad you have enjoyed this first chapter although I do just need to say a big fat sorry because I am not sure if many of you know that I am English therefore my words are done the 'English way' like 'colours' 'realise' etc but I am sure you understand this if you're American and are reading but my Microsoft Word doesn't seem to and no matter how much I try...when I type out a word such as 'realise' it auto corrects to 'realize' and so on for many English/American ways of spelling differences so if you find any mixed up like in a paragraph like one line it says 'colours' and then the next line its spelled without an 'U** **' its not me been a total idiot its my auto correction!**

 **I hope the above made sense. :l**

 _Chapter two: Adjusting to a New Life_

 _April 10, 1912_

The chugging of the train and the movements made Rose feel sick. Her stomach was already churning. She had awoken at six after sleeping for only five hours. Sleep hadn't come to her very well the night before. Her mind was haunted with various images and surprisingly not many of them were involving Cal.

The train to Southampton took four hours and she felt as though she had been chugging on the train for days. Rose was an impatient girl. She always had been. She hated sitting around when she could be doing something. She would be travelling first class on the Titanic. She had been given a larger suite due to another family cancelling sailing at the last minute. A chauffeur would collect her from the train station to take her to the docks, where she would board the great ship.

The car journey to the docks would take less than a half hour, which gave Rose enough time to gather herself together. She had only two suitcases with her and had just over eight thousand dollars. She had spent a large amount of the money she took from Cal on hotels, new clothing and, of course, the ticket aboard. She was carrying all of her belongings with her. She felt as if she was a drifter and she had to admit it felt as though she had always been running.

The Renault pulled into the docks at around 11:30. There were people everywhere, but compared to the huge wonder which was the Titanic, they seemed like dots. Some were passengers, some were relatives, others were just admirers. Women, children, and men of all classes, ages, and nationalities were all gathered together in one place.

The great lady which was the Titanic sat in the harbour in all of her pride and glory. Visually, she was spectacular. The gazes which fell upon her were of pure awe. The seamen were tiny creatures in comparison to the great ship as they worked to perfection, even they were in good spirits.

While she was obviously nervous about travelling alone, she was also slightly excited about what was to come. Yet she knew that these few days at sea would be her only chance to be able to do what she wanted, for soon enough she would be back in the confines of society with her mother back in Philadelphia. Rose knew how much her mother had wanted her to marry Cal to save their family name, but Rose would have to put herself first after what had happened in Paris. Her future was unwritten now. Since she had been engaged to Cal, her life had been planned out for her. Every day would have been a long, drawn out ritual of parties, social gatherings, and playing the perfect wife. No doubt she would have given birth to Cal's babies, the heirs to the steel tycoon. That role would have had her children splashed all over the front pages of local newspapers, and although Rose was not in the least maternal, she did not want that to happen to her future children.

"May I help you with your bags, ma'am?" the chauffeur asked.

"Yes. Just remove them from the trunk. I think I will manage." Rose smiled a little, not taking her attention away from the ship.

The chauffeur ran around the back of the car, removed her two suitcases, and set them on the ground. He opened the car door and held out his hand to Rose. She took it and stepped from the car gracefully before glancing up at the ship properly for the first time.

"Isn't she a beauty?" The chauffeur laughed and gazed up at the ship, too. "She's a British ship through and through."

Rose smiled and proceeded to pick up her suitcases. She found them to be a little heavy, so the chauffeur took one from her.

"Thank you-" Rose halted. She didn't know his name.

"I'm Bert Groves of London, ma'am." He held out his hand and she shook it gracefully. "Well, you're not like the rest of the posh people 'round here, milady. They won't touch me with an iron rod," Bert pointed to himself. "Where you headed?"

"New York. I toured Europe alone." Rose didn't want to cause too much of a stir so she offered a slight snippet of information.

"Oh, right." Bert nodded. ''I trust it was pleasant.''

''Oh, yes, very.'' She lied.

"I'll carry this to the gangplank. Then can you manage?"

Rose nodded and proceeded to the gangplank. Hundreds of people were gathered there, either passengers or just admirers of the ship as they waited to see history go down, and they would.

The atmosphere was amazing. Everyone was in high spirits. Once Rose and Bert reached the gangplank, he placed the suitcase on the ground, where a steward saw Rose struggling and rushed to grab her suitcases.

"Thank you." Rose smiled at the steward. She did not want to cause such a fuss, but she was not used to carrying anything at all.

"Have a safe trip, ma'am." Bert tipped his hat. Rose reached into her purse, pulled out five pounds, and thrust it into his hands. His eyes lit up. He had never had such a tip in all the years he had done this. "You are most kind, ma'am." Bert held out his hand and Rose shook it once again.

"Thank you for the help, Mr. Groves. It was a pleasure to meet you."

With that, Bert disappeared into the ever-growing sea of people.

Taking a deep breath, Rose took a few steps onto the gangplank, leaving solid ground and embarking on a journey which would no doubt change her life forever. The walk was filled with excitement and as the ship engulfed her she was hit by the smell of fresh paint, food and leather.

Once aboard, Rose was led to her stateroom by the steward, who was still carrying her suitcases. The interior of the Titanic certainly was marvellous. She wove through people of first class, who were exchanging gossip and compliments as most of these narrow-minded people did. Some of the nearby passengers smiled warmly at Rose and nodded hello. Others had simply glanced at her and then glanced away. Some were probably even gossiping about her, wondering what a young lady like Rose was doing travelling alone or others perhaps knew her fiancé.

Upon reaching her suite, Rose's initial reaction was surprising. The suite was far too large for her alone and could have been easily occupied by a family of four. She had taken the suite last minute when businessman JP Morgan and his family had decided against sailing. This suite was the so-called Millionaire's Suite. It's décor was Empire style, of dark oak wood. It comprised three bedrooms, a bathroom, a wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a private fifty-foot promenade deck outside. Rose tipped the steward before removing her large purple hat and placing it on the divan. She took in her surroundings, the stateroom which she would occupy for the next few days or so. The journey certainly would be eventful.

 _The room needs a little colour,_ Rose thought. She had left her new Degas and Monet paintings in Paris with Cal. It was only now that she wished she had taken them with her, even though she knew it wouldn't have been feasible.

A room service waiter knocked at the door. When Rose answered, he poured champagne into a tulip-shaped glass of orange juice and handed the Bucks Fizz to her.

She smiled graciously and thanked him.

"You should come take the air on deck, miss. We will be setting sail in a few minutes and most passengers are gathered up on deck to say good-bye," the room steward stated.

"No, thank you." Rose closed the door. She had no intention of going up on deck to be squished in with thousands of other people she didn't know to wave to people she didn't know.

The bedroom which Rose had decided to occupy was the largest. It contained a Queen Anne bed, a desk, and a chair with a small lamp resting bedside it on an end table.

At midday, the Titanic set sail for Cherbourg, France. Rose had thought about taking the air on deck to see the Titanic set sail, but instead she had decided to catch up on her reading. The day had seemed long and somewhat boring. Despite usually being the adventurous type, Rose sat alone in her room. She felt unusually melancholy and couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was the fact that she would be heading home to her mother. She did love her mother, but she didn't like the life she had with her. Society was a difficult place to be born into. One either loved it or hated it. While Rose liked the life she led, the pretty dresses and expensive jewellery, she hated the unhappiness which came with it. Could it ever be possible to have the life she dreamed of? To have a man who loved her with all his heart and money not be needed to prove it?

At late dusk, the Titanic sailed into Cherbourg Harbour to pick up more passengers. At around six, a steward reminded Rose that dinner would be served in the dining saloon at seven. What did she have to lose? She was feeling a little hungry and was eager to see more of the ship, although the gossips from earlier would most certainly be dining tonight but putting that to one side she knew she couldn't confine herself to the room no matter how large it was.

Out of the little belongings Rose now owned, she managed to select a dress suitable for dinner. She herself had been to these sort of dinners before on board the Mauretania. It was basically an excuse for women to show off their finest clothes and jewellery to other passengers they called friends. The people were so narrow-minded. All they seemed to care about was who dressed the finest, who owned the most land, who married the richest man. There wasn't much to dining with them. A person just had to have money to look good. If they didn't have money, society looked at them with contempt.

Rose dressed herself in a beige gown and a black belt with a large, single red rose at the waist. Her long gloves were black, as were her shoes. Her hair was pinned up with some struggle, as Rose herself had barely ever styled her own hair and then she left her room to find her way to dinner.

As Rose entered the first class reception area on B-Deck, she noticed a few prominent passengers. A broad-shouldered woman in an enormous feathered hat came up the gangway, carrying a suitcase in each hand, a spindly porter running to catch up with her to take the bags.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny. Take the rest, if you think you can manage," she ordered, out of breath.

Rose recognized the woman as Margaret Brown. Her husband had struck gold somewhere out west and she was known as new money. She nodded a small hello to the woman and proceeded to the dining saloon. She reached the upper landing on A-Deck and her breath was taken away by the splendour which spread out before her. Overhead was a huge glass dome with a chandelier at its centre.

She reached the Grand Staircase and descended the stairs wearily. This was like heaven. The women were in their floor-length gowns with elaborate hairstyles and had donned their finest jewellery before going to dinner on the arms of their gentlemen. The men in their evening tuxedos were standing with one hand on their smalls of their backs, making small talk. Rose felt out of place at times like this. She felt as though she were an outsider spying on this world of elaborateness. She also felt underdressed compared to some of the women here, who seemed to be drenched in diamonds.

As she entered the reception room on B-Deck, Rose spotted Madeleine Astor. She was around Rose's age and was in a delicate condition. Madeleine had tried her best to hide it, but now she was so far along that it was obvious. She was dressed delicately in a navy blue floor length gown and was on the arm of her husband, the richest man on the ship, John Jacob Astor. Madeleine and Rose had been introduced at some parties back in New York some years ago and together they had dined in Paris and Egypt.

"Hello, Mr. Astor, Madeleine." Rose nodded and held out her hand to Mr. Astor. He took it and gently kissed it. Madeleine, too, delicately held out her hand. Rose shook it.

"Hello, Miss DeWitt Bukater. How are you enjoying this magnificent ship so far?" Mr. Astor smiled.

"Oh, it is quite nice. Congratulations on the wedding, too."

"Thank you, Miss DeWitt Bukater. It was a pity you couldn't come. It was a lovely day, a very large wedding with around five hundred people." Madeleine smiled, remembering the day.

Rose's nose crinkled slightly, knowing once again that this idle chitchat was what she would have to participate in for the rest of dinner.

"Where is your fiancé, Rose?" Madeleine asked.

"Oh…he…well…" Rose stuttered, not wanting to divulge more information than she needed to, so she said whatever came to her mind. "He's in Paris. He will be joining me in the States later on, when he has finished with business, so I am travelling alone."

"Well, in that case, you must allow me to escort you to dinner." Mr. Astor smiled. Holding out his arm for Rose to take, she smiled and linked her arm through his as they approached the dining saloon. Maybe dinner wouldn't be so bad now that she wasn't alone. JJ Astor seemed like a perfectly nice man.

The saloon was like a ballroom in a palace. It was alive and lit by a constellation of hanging chandeliers. The room was full of elegantly dressed people and there was beautiful music from the small orchestra.

JJ and Madeleine stopped to speak to a few men. A thin Scotswoman approached Rose and her party. She was dressed from head to toe in mint green. JJ smiled as she offered her hand to him.

"Hello, JJ. It has been a while." She spoke in a genteel Scottish accent.

JJ turned to Rose and introduced the two ladies.

"Rose, this is the Countess of Rothes."

"Hello. Pleased to meet you." The two ladies shook hands before dinner continued.

The table was large and seated nine people dining. They were joined by some people Rose had encountered before. Others she hadn't. They all seemed like charming people. Rose was discussing ladies' fashions with Lucille Duff-Gordon, who was a successful businesswoman. She designed naughty lingerie and she owned fashion shops in both London and Paris. The conversation was pleasant due to the shared interest in clothing. The remainder of the evening was spent listening to the inconsequential babble around her.

At around nine o'clock, the gentlemen proceeded to go to the smoking room, without their ladies, to talk business and politics while surrounded by a cloud of smoke and with brandies in their hands. Rose knew of the traditions. It was something she found to be pathetic and pointless. JJ offered to escort his young wife back to their stateroom, but she had declined, opting to stay to speak with Rose instead.

They chatted of weddings, mostly. Rose felt a little out of place, talking of a wedding she knew would never take place, but she knew she couldn't tell anyone of Cal and what he did but she submerged herself in the pretence and found that it removed the thought of her lonely cabin from her mind. She would stay out here as long as she could until the last of the women disappeared back to their rooms she had decided.

A young man approached their table. His hair was dark blond and was masterfully pomaded. His face seemed younger than he possibly was and he nodded graciously at the two ladies as he approached Lady Lucille Duff-Gordon. He spoke with her for several minutes before leaving the room as quickly as he had entered, a small smile on his face.

"It certainly is a pity we're both spoken for, isn't it?" Madeleine giggled girlishly. Rose's attention was brought back to the present. She smiled and nodded, agreeing. The man certainly was handsome. Rose decided to retire to her stateroom at around ten. JJ made sure a steward escorted her to her room, not wanting her to be alone at this time of night.

She thanked the steward and returned to her room. The night had been rather wonderful and eventful. Madeleine was a very nice young woman and she had had the pleasure of getting to know her husband.

Maybe this journey would be better than she had thought. Although she knew she would have to play at being Cal's property for the remainder of the voyage, it was just something she would have to do.

She didn't want any media attention about what had happened to her. She knew that if she told one person, even if she thought she could trust them, they would tell other people, and before she knew it, the entire ship would know. She knew what her people were like.

After reading a little of her book, Rose fell asleep peacefully around eleven.


	3. A New Friend

_Chapter three: A New Friend_

 _April 11, 1912_

Rose awoke early on the morning of Thursday, April the eleventh. The weather outside was fine and the sun was shining beautifully. Rose dressed in a light green and lace tea dress. She contemplated wearing a hat, but decided against it. The only hat she had to match her daywear was red and green and she found it to be disgusting, so she tossed it back into her wardrobe and realised how out of place she would look amongst the other hat wearers.

Breakfast was served at eight and afterwards Rose took her book up onto the deck to catch some air and to attempt to finish it. The deck was full of finely dressed men and women, all taking the mid-morning air. The deck chairs, which sat in twos along the promenade deck, all seemed to be taken, so Rose continued her walk on the deck until she came upon two empty deck chairs. She perched herself on the left one and opened her book before engrossing herself once again. The book was by HG Wells and was his first non-fiction bestseller named _Anticipations_. It was a book that anticipated what the world would be like in the year 2000. Rose had been fascinated by his writings since she was a little girl and she had owned the book since 1901, when the book was published. Her mother had always hated her reading the dreaded book, fearing it would give her false ideas, but Ruth had always been defeated.

Reading was one of Rose's dearest passions. She also loved to sing and dance, unknown to her mother, although she had taken ballet lessons up to the age of thirteen, when her mother had pulled her out of class and sent her to an all-girls finishing school in the south of France. This was something she had despised with a passion. She was accompanied by her best childhood friend, Vivien, and together they had made secretive plans to escape, but they knew they would never go through with it. Finishing school had taught Rose how to play the piano, speak Latin and French fluently, and how to act like a proper lady. Ruth had also made plans to send Rose to university until Cal had taken an interest in her. When Rose had actually wanted to go to university to further her education, Ruth had refused to back her up because the purpose of university was to find a suitable husband, and Rose had already found Cal, the best of them all.

A large gust of wind blew Rose's tendrils everywhere, but the wind still didn't disconnect Rose's attention from the book. She had read the book many times over the years, but she still found it fascinating. She herself wondered what the future held, not just for herself, but for the world. She herself knew she wouldn't be around to see the year 2000 perhaps a great grandchild. She tried to picture that life.

The tapping of large feet along the wooden deck disturbed Rose from reading. The feet belonged to a man who had halted beside the deckchair next to her. Rose glanced upwards to see a young man dressed in a day suit and a top hat. He removed his hat to reveal his face, his straight, shaggy blond hair falling into his face. Rose recognized the man as the gentleman who chatted with Lucille Duff-Gordon at dinner the evening before. He smiled down at her a little.

"Is this chair occupied, ma'am?" he asked, indicating the deck chair beside her. She shook her head a little, losing the ability to speak.

"Um…no. Please, take a seat." She sat back in her own chair.

"Thank you." The man positioned himself in the chair.

Rose had hoped he wouldn't disturb her reading, and he didn't for several minutes, until he took out a large leather portfolio and began to sharpen a piece of charcoal with a sharp knife before opening a sketchbook and drawing away. Rose sighed unhappily. She would have liked to finish this book.

The scratching from the charcoal on paper could be heard, and after several minutes, Rose gave up on the idea of having some peace up on deck.

She gazed up at the sun and realized how warm it actually was. She could feel her face burning a little and was worried that her nose would peel or her face would burn, but then she thought of her mother. If her mother could see her now, she would probably faint. Here she was, outside in the middle of the morning without a hat, sitting next to…well…dare she admit? A rather handsome man.

Discreetly, Rose looked from the corner of her eye at the man beside her. He must only be nineteen or twenty and he was alone. Where was his mother? Or wife, for that matter?

She watched as his hands moved over the paper, creating line after line, and then the drawing came together and Rose glanced around to see what exactly he was sketching. It was then that she saw an elderly couple gazing over the railing at the sun and the sea. Rose watched, entranced by the old couple. They held hands just like young lovers and seemed to be comfortable in each other's presence. They seemed to have been married for hundreds of years, and by the way the man gazed at the woman with nothing but love in his eyes, she knew that people like them were brought together by fate.

She herself was a huge believer in fate. Maybe it was fate that Cal would behave the way that he did, so then she could be free and make a life for herself and maybe in a few years she would find her own husband and settle down. Rose knew that she wanted to settle down, but not for a while. She wanted to explore every nook of the world first. She wanted to say she had lived her life to the fullest and not just stayed in the town she had been born in forever, like her own mother who believed the world started and ended in Philadelphia.

After taking several glances at the man himself, Rose thought of whether to make conversation with him, but decided against it. He seemed to be so engrossed in his sketch that she didn't wish to disturb him, even though he had disturbed her. After a while, Rose, unbeknownst to herself, had moved slightly closer to the strange man. She was staring somewhat rudely at the sketch he was doing, more engrossed than she had thought herself to be.

The man must have noticed this and turned immediately to face the woman beside him. The last he knew, she was reading a book, and now she was staring intently at his work, not that he minded at all. He laughed a little and this broke Rose's concentration. She slowly moved her eyes to meet the man's and could feel her cheeks burning a little at the fact that he had caught her staring very rudely.

"I'm sorry." She smiled a little, actually meaning it. She didn't know just how rude she was being.

"It's all right, ma'am. It's just that the last time I looked, you were reading HG Wells. Now you're looking at my work. That's all."

"Oh. I-well, I was distracted." Rose found the words, but immediately regretted them. He must think she was crazy.

He smiled and Rose found herself smiling, too. His smile was purely contagious.

"I'm sorry. Did I distract you, too? You seemed so engrossed."

"No. I was almost done."

With that, the man went back to his work and finished off a few lines here and there.

Rose tried to not watch this time. Minutes later she had forgotten the small talk with the man and had become lost in her own world. She thought of what she was to do when she was home. She had no skills and no work experience. Would she continue to live with her mother? Rose knew that when she turned eighteen she would inherit a little money from her father, which he had set up as a trust fund for her when she was born, and no one else could touch the money besides he but that wasn't for almost another year. She thought of opening the book again until the man started a conversation.

"Lovely day, isn't it, miss?"

Rose was startled by the man's voice again. She looked down to see a completed sketch and saw that the couple by the railing had gone. The sketch was marvellous. He had captured their souls and put them onto paper. She could see their love for one another. He was a very talented man. Maybe he was a famous artist or something.

"Yes, indeed it is. A lovely morning," Rose agreed.

"We have been blessed with good weather. I hope it continues. I love to come out on deck after breakfast. Beats staying inside listening to the others whining." He laughed a little, squinting at the sun.

"The others?" Rose asked, hoping to find out who he was traveling with.

"Oh, just some friends I met yesterday after I boarded. His name is Tommy. He's Irish and drinks a little too much."

"At breakfast?" Rose laughed. There certainly were some characters aboard the ship. It was like a who's who of society. "So, are you traveling alone, or…"

"Yes. I am alone. My Uncle Eric died almost two years ago. I have been alone since." The man's head dipped a little and Rose immediately felt guilty for asking the question.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's in the past now, ma'am." The man raised his eyes to look at Rose's. She could feel just how much of a powerful presence he had. One look could make most women fall under his spell. Rose shook her head a little, trying the break herself out the small trance that she had appeared to fall in. His eyes still gazed at her for a few seconds, and then he smiled a little.

"I'm Jack Dawson." He held out his hand and waited for Rose to take it. Hopefully she would give a name.

"I'm Rose DeWitt Bukater." She placed her hand in his and he kissed it gracefully. Her hand was not gloved and she could feel his soft lips against her bare hand. Rose simply didn't know what was wrong with her. She felt like someone she had read about in a romance novel. Maybe it was from being in the sun for too long.

"Oh, are you of the Philly DeWitt Bukaters?" Mr. Dawson asked.

"Yes. How do you know that?" She smiled a little, almost scared of how he knew.

"You must be the daughter of Ruth? Caledon Hockley's fiancée, right?"

Rose's heart fell and she suddenly felt sick, startled by the fact she had forgotten all about the reason she was travelling alone. That was how he knew her. Of course. How could she not have known? When Cal and herself had become engaged, he had printed it all over the newspapers. Hadn't Mr. Dawson asked her a question? Asking if she was actually Cal's fiancée? Rose realised she hadn't spoke in a while and her mouth open to say something, but then she realized her hand was still in his.

"No," she blurted. She surprised herself. Lord only knew this news would spread now, that she was no longer engaged to the great Cal Hockley.

"No? I thought you two were engaged as of last year?" Jack frowned a little, and he, too, saw Rose's hand was in his. He felt himself blush.

"Things just didn't work out right, Mr. Dawson. But please, I beg of you, don't tell this news to anyone. I don't want to be the center of gossip." Rose found herself talking a little too much and she removed her hand from Jack's, growing almost cold.

"I won't. I swear. This is not my business, anyway. I am most certainly not one of them, Miss DeWitt Bukater. I am not a gossip."

Rose felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. She felt she could trust this man. His eyes seemed to speak volumes.

"Thank you. I am grateful, Mr. Dawson."

"Can we cut the formality now? I am Jack, not Mr. Dawson. That makes me sound old."

Rose laughed and Jack noticed how much this beautiful woman seemed to have perked up since the change of subject. Her smile was captivating. Her hair was almost on fire, the most beautiful colour he had ever seen, and her eyes were pools of blue he could swim in forever. Her skin was pale, with little colour, and almost porcelain. She was dressed head to toe in light green and it was quite the colour for her.

"All right then. Please, call me Rose. My surname is quite a mouthful."

"No kidding. It takes me a beat to remember it." Jack watched as Rose laughed once again.

"So, where are you headed, Jack?" Rose asked, wanting a little more information about this man. He certainly didn't seem to be an upper class gentleman. His suit was impeccable, but his personality was not like a wet cloth, unlike most of the upper class males.

"Boston. Home. I took a trip around Europe after my uncle died and thought that after twenty months I should head home."

Rose liked that Jack spoke the truth. He didn't conceal anything, and with him, she thought that maybe she could be herself.

"I didn't see much of Europe myself. I was sat in a carriage or hotel room most of the time."

"You should go there sometime, Rose. It is a shame you didn't see much of the world. France was my favourite. The art there is so amazing right now, with all of the dottism and cubism." Jack stopped, realizing he must be boring Rose with all of his art talk. How would she know about art?

"I love art myself. I own several Monet's back home. I also recently purchased a Degas, but unfortunately I was unable to bring it with me." Rose did not specify the reasons, and she did not wish to.

Jack was amazed by this woman. She had an interest in art. He could sit here all day and chat to her easily about anything. But he knew he couldn't.

Jack reached inside his waistcoat and found his pocket watch. The time read 12:20. Lunch was served at 12:20 in the Palm Court.

"It's lunch already. Do you care to join me for lunch, Rose?" Jack stood, gathered his leather sketchbook, and placed it under his arm. He placed his hat on his head and pushed his excess hair behind his ears.

Rose thought for a moment and then realized that she was to meet Madeleine for lunch. She politely declined his invitation but thanked him anyway. With that, he hurried away and disappeared into the crowd of passengers taking their midday walks in the lovely warm sun.

Lunch with Madeleine and JJ was the same boring and idle chitchat. She wished more of the people there were more like Jack Dawson.

At lunch, they were joined by the ship's designer, Thomas Andrews, and the chairman of the White Star Line, Bruce Ismay. The two talked endlessly of the Titanic and its luxury. Margaret Brown, too, joined their party a little later and she livened the table up immensely.

"So, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?" Mrs. Brown directly spoke to Bruce Ismay.

"Well, yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all-strength," Mr. Ismay spoke proudly.

"She is a beauty." Molly smiled.

"Yes, she is indeed." JJ Astor joined the chitchat.

"Mr. Andrews here is our master shipbuilder. He designed her from the keel plates up." The table's attention turned to thirty-nine-year-old Thomas Andrews, an Irish gentleman. Thomas rather disliked the fact that the attention was now turned to him.

"Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is…" He slapped the table. "Willed into solid reality."

"Why're ships always being called she? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

The whole table burst into laughter at Mrs. Brown's comments. She was widely known for her wit. But in a way, she was right. It was just another example of men setting rules their way. Rose lit a cigarette and began to puff away delicately on it. This was something her mother did not like her to do, but her mother was not here at this moment. Mr. Ismay's face was a picture, and from the look on his face, he most certainly did not approve, but Rose did not care. This was her time to rebel and truth be told she enjoyed a cigarette but time to time.

After a bath, Rose changed her dress and began to prepare for dinner that evening. JJ would be escorting her once again. She had to admit that her first impression of JJ had been completely wrong. He happened to be one of the most gracious gentlemen she had ever met and anyone who said a wrong word about JJ and the fact that his wife was young was wrong. They were obviously in love and cared a great deal about each other. Rose decided to dress in red for dinner. It was a dress she had bought herself while in London. It was one of the dresses she was proud of wearing because she had purchased it herself, without permission from her mother or Cal. It was a floor-length, dark red gown with intricate black beading over the material. She wore black court shoes and simple dark green earrings. Her hair, once again, was pinned up as it always was. The thought of seeing a woman with her hair loose was almost forbidden to most people. She wore a simple gold and diamond bracelet and a ruby ring on her engagement finger.

The voyage so far had turned out to be quite eventful. She had met some interesting people, Jack Dawson in particular. She had noticed him at lunch with some friends. He had waved over at her and she had smiled back almost shyly, terrified of people seeing them. But she shouldn't really have bothered, because they all seemed to be wrapped up in their own pointless conversations.

Rose set out to meet the Astors at 6:45. Dinner was due to begin at 7:30.

As Rose entered the upper landing, she never failed to be amazed by the beautifully lit landing and the Grand Staircase. The clock read seven o'clock dead. Once again, gentlemen led their ladies down to the first class dining saloon.

Rose was looking forward to this evening. She would be dining with Mrs. Brown, with whom she had become friends. Margaret wasn't like the rest of them. She was her own person. She actually refused to fit in and that was one of the qualities which Rose herself aspired to. Rose had dressed a little more elaborately this evening, though not to fit in, but it was how she felt. She hadn't dressed up in a long time and it felt good to be able to be in control of herself and not just be shown off like some Christmas decoration.

Upon reaching the dining saloon, she saw that most of the passengers were gathered together, swapping idle gossip. To the far left of the room, she spotted Jack and some men who she assumed were his friends. The room once again was full of ladies dressed impeccably and their gentlemen in fine tuxedos. Every evening seemed to be the same ritual, but for some reason, tonight Rose felt a little nervous. Why? She didn't know.

Upon seeing Rose enter the room alone, Jack Dawson broke away from his friends. He enjoyed their company immensely. Tommy Ryan was an Irishman through and through. He was due to be touring the States with his brother, whom he would meet in New York. He was a ladies' man and had already attracted the attention of a few fine ladies. Fabrizio di Rossi was Italian and was traveling with his wife, Helga, who was Norwegian. They had met on a ship the year before, had married within the month, and now she was six months pregnant with their first child. Together, they were a crowd of people from different cultures and backgrounds. Jack found every single one of them interesting people whom he loved to be around. But for now, he wanted to seek out another friend.

"Miss Rose?" Jack asked. Seeing her back to him, he waited for her to turn before he held out his hand to her.

She spun and was rather surprised that he had broken away from his party to speak to her.

"Hello, Jack." Rose took his hand, and once again, he kissed her bare hand. She felt a spark she couldn't explain when his lips touched her hand, but she liked it.

"You look stunning this evening," Jack pointed out. She did. He had never seen such a beautiful woman in his life. She had curves in the right places, and in the figure hugging dress, it was a wonder every man in the room wasn't on his knees just to speak to her.

"Thank you, Jack. How are you?"

"I'm very well. Are you here alone?" Jack wondered.

"No. I am to meet to Astor's." Rose glanced around to seek out the familiar figures of JJ and Madeleine, but they were nowhere to be seen yet.

"Oh, are you friends with the Astor's?"

"Yes. We met a while back. Madeleine and I knew each other before she married JJ."

With the way Rose spoke of them, she must know them well. Jack had heard of the Astor's, but never actually met them. He didn't really know anyone here-only who he had been introduced to. He recognized faces from newspapers and such.

"Are you dining alone?" Rose asked. She hoped a little he would join her for dinner. It certainly would make a change and bring a little entertainment to the table.

"I am here with Tommy, Fabri, and Helga. You may dine with us if you like."

"I would love to, but I am dining with the Astor's and Mrs. Brown tonight, although you would be welcome at our table. Bring your friends."

With that, Jack seemed to perk up a little. He invited his friends to dine, but they politely declined, obviously not wanting to be associated with the narrow-minded people he knew would be at the table. They persuaded Jack to dine with them, though, knowing how much he wanted to get to know the pretty redhead.

"May I escort you to dinner then, Miss Rose?" Jack offered his arm to Rose and she took it. She had never been on the arm of another man aside from Cal and she found this to be an exciting evening. She had always been on the arm of Caledon Hockley. With Jack, though, she felt at ease. She felt as though she could be herself and not just be another society girl. She felt a sense of happiness and, dare she say it? She felt as though she belonged. He was a very charming and handsome man. He was obviously not like the other men aboard. He wasn't snooty or big-headed about his money.

She had heard from various chitchats that he was what the people there called 'new money' and that he had inherited a railroad fortune from his uncle when he was just seventeen but that was just chatter.

Rose spotted JJ and Madeleine in the crowds of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen who were strolling towards their dining tables. She led Jack to their party to introduce them.

"JJ, Madeleine, I'd like you to meet Jack Dawson."

"How do you do?" Madeleine shook his hand and cast a small look onto Rose.

Mr. Astor shook his hand, gentleman to gentleman.

"Are you of the Boston Dawson's?"

"Yes, I am, actually." Jack nodded.

"So, you're Eric's son?" JJ asked Jack.

"No, sir. I'm his nephew. Eric passed away two years ago, though."

JJ's face dulled and he apologised to Jack. "Eric and I were at Harvard together all those years ago. He was a wonderful man, Jack. A wonderful man."

Jack nodded a little and caught Rose's gaze on him. She never ceased to be amazed by this man she had only met hours before. He smiled at her before leading her to their dining table. Finding out snippets of information about this man was much more interesting than any other past time aboard.

Dinner that evening was spectacular. Foie gras-goose liver pâté-was served with soup and bread rolls. The talk at the table was more alive than ever. Mrs. Brown told her famous stories of her husband and Jack charmed the whole table with his talk of living for the moment and his adventures in his travels throughout Europe. He had travelled via tramp steamers and camped under bridges. Although some people were repulsed by the thoughts, most were amused that a man who had money to spend on hotels and luxuries would spend nights laid in mud but Rose thought most people present assumed he was lying for entertainment purposes, just like Mrs. Brown's stories.

Once dinner was over, Rose had said good-bye to the party and allowed Jack to escort her back to her stateroom.

"May I meet you for lunch tomorrow, Rose?" Jack asked somewhat shyly. He wanted to get to know this beauty more.

"Yes. I would like that. Say the Palm Court at 12:30?"

"Of course. Good night, Rose."

With that, Jack turned and walked away down the corridor. Rose stayed in the hallway until he vanished from sight, and then she entered her stateroom of loneliness once again.


	4. Two Beating Hearts

**April 12, 1912**

The sunlight streamed through the windows in the sitting room of Rose's stateroom. She could feel the heat from the promenade deck. There was a gentle breeze and it was warm. Rose had awoken later than she usually would, at around ten, and missed breakfast. She would meet Jack today for lunch in the Palm Court at 12:30. It was something she was looking forward to, not just getting to know more about this man but he also took an interest in what she had to say and that was a rarity.

She dressed in a yellow and white tea dress with a belt at the waist. Again, she pinned her hair back as best she could. Dressing without the help of a maid had been hard at first but she had gotten used to it more now and found she could dress herself more at ease.

The night before, Rose had slept more soundly than she had in years. She felt like this was how she wanted her life to be. She wanted to socialise with amazing people, connect with them. She wanted to travel and see different cultures and ways of life. She wanted to buy her own house and decorate it with her own style of artwork. She wanted to live her life the way she wanted and she knew that while she was aboard this great ship, she could do that but it could be the last chance before she was home.

The night before had been entertaining. The dinner had changed immensely just from the presence of Jack Dawson. He seemed to like his life, to not care what people thought of him, and Rose wished she could have that too.

At 12:30, Rose entered the Palm Court restaurant. It was a beautiful place, very light and airy with revolving doors as the main entrance. Scanning the small selection of people at the tables, Rose's eyes found Jack sitting alone in a corner of the restaurant. The table which he had reserved was the smallest of them all, seating only four people, but from the looks of things, she and Jack would be dining alone.

He smiled as he saw her enter. She, too, smiled, and he stood to greet her. He was dressed smartly in his suit, though his hair was overly long and a sandy blond. It flopped into his eyes boyishly. It was then that Rose realised that he couldn't be anymore than twenty. His eyes were the most amazing blue she had ever seen. She could feel herself fall into them every time she saw him.

"Hello, Rose," Jack greeted her and pulled himself away from the table. He kissed her cheek lightly. It was something she had not expected.

"Hello, Jack. What a wonderful day."

"It is. The weather has been good.'' He smiled. ''I didn't see you at breakfast."

"I woke late. I was a little lazy this morning."

The pair sat and waited as a waiter approached their table to take orders.

"I'll have the lamb." Rose gave the waiter the menu before glancing at Jack as he was about to place his order.

"I will have the beef. Thank you."

Jack handed the waiter the menu as they waited for lunch to be served. The air was slightly awkward and Rose didn't quite know what to do or say.

"Last night was lovely." Jack smiled. He, too, saw Rose's face perk up a little when he mentioned the night before. "Mrs. Brown is quite a talker."

"She is. She's a wonderful lady. Madeleine, too.''

"Yes, indeed."

"She is a wonderful lady and will she make a good mother. She and her husband are some of the only people aboard this ship I trust, even though I didn't tell them about Mr. Hockley and I."

Rose glanced at Jack, wondering what he would think about her. They hadn't spoken of Cal since they had met on the deck the day before. Her heart pounded and she felt sick when she thought of him after these days on board she had submerged herself into this fantastic life and seemed to forget that just a week before she was in Paris with Cal.

"I hope he never finds me, Jack," Rose said, almost to herself. She hoped with all her heart that she would never come face-to-face with him again.

Jack saw the fear in her beautiful face when she spoke those words. He wondered what had actually happened between the two of them to make her so worried about him finding her but he knew to not ask, especially not right now.

"I'm sure he won't, Rose. If he does, he will have me to contend with."

Rose smiled, just a little. He seemed to always know the right thing to say to make her feel better.

"So, are you engaged or married, Jack?" Rose asked just after lunch was brought to them.

"Oh, me? No. Actually, that doesn't interest me."

"Are you saying you don't want to marry?"

"Oh, no. I do. I would love children one day, but for now, I just want to live out my dream, you know? I want to travel and see the world before having a wife or a child."

Rose smiled through mouthfuls of food. She, too, wanted to travel the world and live out her dreams before she thought of marriage. She knew that she was too young now to be involved with Cal and to accept his proposal. Rose looked to changed the subject, to anything. His sketchbook caught her eye and she looked over the leather carefully. It looked expensive and in very good condition.

"You are a wonderful artist, Jack. That old couple-you really captured them."

Jack glanced up from his lunch at his sketchpad and then at Rose. He thought that she hadn't paid much attention to his drawing yesterday. He felt a wave of happiness come over him and he smiled.

"You really like them?"

"Yes. I think you're talented."

"Maybe I should sketch you one day, Rose. Put you in that picture." Jack laughed and Rose smiled, wondering if he was actually serious.

"Maybe," she teased a little.

Once lunch was through, they decided to take the air on the boat deck. It was a lovely day and there wasn't a wisp of cloud in sight. Most couples walked together arm-in-arm. Jack offered his arm to Rose and she took it. She could feel something stir whenever she had just the smallest contact with him, like protection and she enjoyed that feeling thoroughly.

"I always loved the ocean. I love the sea air, the breeze. I could throw it all away to become a sea captain," Jack joked.

"I always wanted to be a dancer. I had lessons when I was a little girl, but my mother sent me to finishing school, so I never had the chance to dance again."

Rose took a short intake of breath and remembered that she hadn't danced in years. She probably couldn't even remember how to dance.

"We should go dancing, then, Rose. After dinner tonight. How about we have a little waltz?"

Rose giggled and nodded.

"So, you can dance, huh?" Rose asked, wondering if he really could or not.

"I'm not bad. I have been known to do a little dancing when I'm merry." Jack laughed and stopped to take a moment to gaze over the railing. "My love is art, though, you know? I love to just-I don't know. I can get lost in paintings and portraits. I draw from the heart. I love to see and meet different people and put them onto paper. I mean, cameras are all good, but I think a sketch can really capture the moment on paper forever."

Rose absorbed all of his words. He spoke with such a passion and she loved that. She was almost lost in his description of art. His eyes told a story of his love and when she gazed deep into his eyes, she could feel something she swore she had never felt before. Jack pointed over to two empty chairs and they sat together.

"I'd love to see your art, Jack."

Jack smiled and picked up his portfolio. He placed it on her lap, and with slightly shaking fingers, she opened the leather book.

She opened it and came across a serious of drawings. Each one expressed a little bit of humanity-an old woman's hands, a sleeping man, a father and daughter at the railing. The faces were luminous and alive. His book was a celebration of the human condition.

"Jack, these really are something." She was stunned to see how talented he actually was. The sketch yesterday was just a small amount of what his talent actually was. She could feel herself actually being drawn into each of the drawings.

"I'm glad you like them."

Turning the page, she came upon a series of nudes. Rose was transfixed by the languid beauty he had created. His nudes were soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They felt more like portraits than studies of the human form...almost uncomfortably intimate. Rose blushed, raising the book as some strollers went by so that they couldn't be seen.

"These were drawn from life?" Rose asked Jack, trying to sound a little bit more like an adult. She felt like a child. Jack blushed upon her finding his selection of nudes from Paris. Rose studied one drawing in particular, the girl posed half in sunlight, half in shadow. Her hands lay at her chin, one furled and one open like a flower, languid and graceful.

"You liked this woman. You used her several times."

"Well, she had beautiful hands. You see?" Jack turned the page to show Rose the sketch of the model's delicate hands. He, too, could feel his right hand on Rose's as she held the book. He pulled his hand away a little and ran his hands through his shaggy hair to attempt to smooth it out in the late afternoon breeze.

"I think you must've had a love affair with her," Rose teased him.

"No. Just with her hands. She was a one-legged prostitute." Jack placed his hands on Rose's right hand once again and moved the page to show Rose the portrait of the woman. They both laughed a little.

"Would you like to continue our little walk?" Jack stood and held out his arm once again for Rose. She smiled, nodded, and they continued their walk.

They stayed on deck and talked well into the afternoon. They spoke of their pasts and their dreams. She and Jack entered into the deepest conversations she had ever had in her life with this man who was pretty much a stranger. Jack, too, opened his heart to this beautiful girl. He spoke of his parents and how they died when he was very young. His mother had died of heart failure when he was just thirteen. His father had followed three months later. He'd fallen through some thin ice while ice fishing. With no other close kin in that part of the country, Jack had been taken to Boston to live with his Uncle Eric, who was a millionaire. He owned a railroad. Eric had become like a second father to him and had taken him in as his own son. Eric had no children of his own and his wife had died years before Jack was even born, and Eric had never remarried, for he had loved his wife with all of his heart.

In the spring of 1910, when Jack was just seventeen, Eric had gone to sleep one night and had never woken up, which had broken Jack's heart. He had been scared and alone in the world, with no money until Eric's attorney had read out Eric's will. Jack had inherited all of his fortune. Jack knew of no more Dawson's living, so he had used the money to live out his lifelong dream to travel the world, which was what he had been doing ever since.

The deaths of the people closest to him had made him make sure he was living out his life to the fullest and never taking life for granted, because he could be dead the next day.

"I make each day count. I have to, knowing that this day could be my last."

It was sunset and the sky was painted with orange light. Jack and Rose leaned on the A-Deck railing aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship's lights came on. It seemed like a magical moment-perfect.

"I went to Santa Monica just after I left Boston. I lived there for a while. Things are so different there, Rose. People are free, no one to judge. There's a roller coaster, too, you know?"

Jack spoke with great passion for the life he had there. Rose had never experienced that type of passion or love for something. She had never loved anything, really, with that much of passion.

"The pier is just amazing. I would just sit there and just stare out at sea, at the horizon, and watch the waves break on the shore."

"I've never been there, Jack. But I sure would love to. I have never even been to a beach. I haven't really done anything…" Rose drifted off, realizing just how much she had missed out on in her life compared to Jack. He wasn't like other first class men. He was different. He cared. He showed his true colours. He had a life and he lived it to the fullest, not taking anything for granted.

"I'll take you sometime to the pier, Rose. We should go there and just…be wild and free…" Jack trailed off and laughed.

Rose tore her eyes away from the sunset and glanced at Jack for a moment. She wasn't even sure if he was serious or not, but something inside her was yearning to go there with him. Just give it all up. Whether it was the idea of paradise or Jack actually being there with her, she didn't know.

"We should, Jack," Rose replied, somewhat more seriously than Jack had expected. He had obviously been joking. He hadn't even considered that her reply would be that serious. He wondered if she meant it. "I need to live, Jack. There's something in me. I don't know what it is-if I should be a artist or a sculptor or a dancer like Isadora Duncan-a wild, pagan spirit."

"All right. We're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the roller coaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach...right in the surf...but you have to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff."

"You mean, one leg on each side? Can you show me?"

"Sure, if you like."

Rose turned to Jack and smiled a devilish smile. "I think I would."

She turned and glanced back out to sea. The ocean seemed endless. Even the Titanic herself was just a small dot on a page compared to the sea. There was a big, wide world out there, and Rose needed to explore. She needed to free herself from the jar she felt confined in like a butterfly.

Rose turned back to Jack and saw that he was standing much closer to her than she remembered. Their fingertips were touching just the slightest, and even this was enough to send shivers through her body. This was something she wasn't used to. She didn't know what she was feeling or if she even liked it. Something drew her to Jack like a moth to a flame. He was in such easy reach of her, but yet he seemed so far away. They were from the same world, but led completely different lives.

After the ship docked, she wondered if she would even see his handsome face again. She hoped they would stay friends or at least write at Christmastime. She had found a friend in him like she never had before. He was the one person she trusted most in the world, and yet she had met him just yesterday.

The sunset was beautiful, a perfect setting for something in a romantic novel.

Jack pried his eyes away from Rose's soft gaze and pulled out his pocket watch. 6:10 PM.

"Rose, we'd better dress for dinner. It's almost time."

Rose nodded and took Jack's arm to shield her from the dusk chill. He walked her to her stateroom and agreed to meet her in an hour.

A knock sounded at the door at seven. Rose knew it was Jack and simply could not hide her enthusiasm as she opened the door to Jack dressed in his tuxedo. He looked more handsome than she remembered from the night before at dinner.

Rose invited him into her sitting room for a moment. Jack's heart raced in his chest. She looked undeniably stunning as usual. She always seemed to illuminate a room, not just with her glamour but with her beauty. Her eyes shone with happiness and it made him happy to just be with her at the moment.

She was a vision in red and black, her low-cut dress showing off her neck and shoulders, her arms sheathed in white gloves that came well above the elbows. He was hypnotized by her beauty.

"So, you care to escort a lady to dinner?"

"Sure. I'm lucky to escort a woman as stunning as you. I should take the chance while I have it." Jack smiled, but he was also serious.

As they approached the reception area on B-Deck, Mrs. Brown took Jack's arm and he escorted both ladies to dinner. She looked good in her beaded gown in her own busty and broad-shouldered way.

After dinner came the dancing.

The small orchestra played beautiful tunes. Jack asked Molly Brown to dance, leaving Rose to waltz with Thomas Andrews while JJ danced with Madeleine.

"So, you know how to lead a girl, huh?" Molly teased Jack. "I thought you might have had two left feet."

"Hey, I am a man of many talents."

"Don't underestimate the Dawson's, right?" Molly smiled at the young man, who was young enough to be her son. He was handsome, and she was sure he was sweet on young Rose DeWitt Bukater, and by the sickly sweet way she was glancing at the two of them dancing from her seat at the table, she was sweet on him, too.

"Why don't you take Rose for a dance?" Molly suggested.

Jack glanced over at their table, noticing that Rose had finished her waltz with Mr. Andrews. He glanced down at Molly and noticed the small glint in her eye.

"Maybe I will, Mrs. Brown."

Jack left Molly and strolled over to Rose. She saw him approach and smiled a little more. He held out his hand to her and she glanced at him, confused.

"Dance with me, Rose." It wasn't a question. It was almost an order. He wanted to dance with her. He wanted her body to be close to his as they glided wordlessly to the graceful music.

Rose stood, removed her gloves, and placed them on the table. Jack led her to the small dance floor. Rose suddenly felt a little self-conscious, as if all of the eyes in the room were on her.

Swallowing her nervousness, she and Jack faced each other. She could feel herself trembling as he took her right hand in his left and placed the other hand on the small of her back. It was an electrifying moment for them both.

They danced a little awkwardly at first, but they sank into it. The feeling of his hand at the small of her back was causing her to tremble slightly.

Jack gazed down at the angel in his arms, dancing together slowly as if they had been lovers for years.

Rose, too, gazed up at Jack and their eyes met. The gazes upon them were forgotten and they felt as though only the other existed in the room.

Molly gazed upon them and smiled a little. She knew of their mutual attraction, and Jack was a good catch. Gossips would talk, but when didn't they? This was their moment only.

Jack pulled Rose slightly closer to him and thought he could feel her heartbeat pounding just like his. It was then that the music stopped and the sound of the other passengers applauding the orchestra brought Jack and Rose back to reality.

That night, Rose lay in bed awake, thinking, her thoughts mostly of Jack. He had affected her in a way she thought wasn't possible. She had some sort of feelings which seemed impossible for her to feel. She wondered if she was slightly crazy, or whether everything was real. She didn't want this ship to dock, ever. He appealed so much to her. Whether she was just attracted to the life he led or attracted to him, she did not know. When he had walked her to her stateroom, she had felt her heart beating strangely inside her chest.

Just spending the day with him had been enough for her. His presence was powerful. He had some sort of control over her just by looking at her. She felt he looked right through into her soul with one glance. Just the small dance they had shared together was filled with electricity she had never felt before, not with any man. Not even Cal, who was once the man she was to marry.

What was she feeling? Love? No, it wasn't that, was it?

Sleep didn't come well to either Jack or Rose that night. They held each other in their thoughts for most of the night.


	5. That Loving Feeling

_Five: That Loving Feeling_

 _April 13, 1912_

The next morning, Rose awoke with a newfound feeling in her heart which she had never felt before. She'd had time to think the night before as she lay in bed in the dark, alone with her thoughts. She thought of Cal and wondered where he was now, whether he was looking for her or whether he would just give her up. She thought back to the night in Paris when she had thought her life would end. She thought back to when she first met Cal and how flattered she was by his affections and the love she thought she had felt for him. She thought of her mother and how she would react to the news of her and Cal's engagement being called off. Mostly, she thought of Jack, the kind, handsome, talented gentleman that he was. How she wished she could have met him, not Cal. How she wished he had taken an interest in her, not Cal. She wondered how happy she would have been then, if it was Jack who would have become her husband, not Cal.

All of the things she felt in Jack's presence were new to her. Every single thought and feeling she had towards him had surprised her. She would have done anything in that moment to see him, for him to hold her like he had the night before. The dance had been one of the most powerful things Rose had ever encountered.

Rose pulled herself out of bed, sat at her dressing table, and brushed through her tangled hair. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and smiled a little. She looked happier than she had in a while. She felt it, too and that colour in her cheeks was brand new.

Rose shakily reached into the top drawer and pulled out a ring, a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring. Its beauty shone in the mid-morning light. The ring had belonged to her grandmother. It had been her engagement ring and it had been passed on to her when she was just a child. Rose had been close to her grandmother, Annie. Annie had moved to Philadelphia as a fifteen-year-old girl to marry Rose's granddad, George DeWitt. Her mother had been born in 1872 into one of the most prominent families in Philadelphia. Her own mother, Ruth DeWitt, had married her father, Richard 'Dick' Bukater when she had been twenty. It had been a match planned by both of Rose's sets of grandparents.

Rose had been born in February of 1895.

Memories of herself as a young child playing piano on her grandmother's lap swamped her. With just one look at the ring, she felt a huge amount of sentimentality. She placed the ring on the engagement finger of her left hand and proceeded to dress.

She wore a lilac tea dress with a lemon and mauve hat. Rose had ordered room service, so her breakfast would be brought to her that morning. She wished to eat alone and enjoy the lovely morning air on her private promenade deck, which she had not yet taken advantage of.

A knock sounded on the door and Rose answered, revealing two stewards who had brought her breakfast. They both seemed to struggle somewhat, but still remained professional as they set the table for Rose.

She thanked them and settled herself onto the small wicker chair. The sea air this morning was divine. She took a sip of her coffee and stood to take in the sea view over the railing. As far as the eye could see was just deep blue ocean. It was heaven.

After lunch was served at 12:30, Rose decided to take the air up on deck. JJ and Madeleine were also taking a stroll, accompanied by the Countess of Rothes.

"Good afternoon, Rose."

"Good afternoon, JJ, Madeleine, Countess." Rose nodded to each of them.

"It is a lovely afternoon, although it is slightly chillier than yesterday, I believe." The Countess smiled. "Well, I will be meeting the Wideners for a cup of tea. Do you care to join us?"

"That would be lovely." Rose smiled. Anything would do to keep her mind occupied for a while. She knew Jack would not be at tea. It wasn't his style. When Rose thought of seeing him, she could feel herself shiver, and she wasn't sure why. She had a sense of dread. She wished with all her heart that she could shake the feeling, but it just wouldn't subside.

Tea was served with a small piece of fruitcake. Rose knew the Wideners from Philadelphia. The father, George, had been born and raised in Philadelphia. His wife, Eleanor, was an attractive woman and was the daughter of William Elkins, a wealthy Pennsylvania businessman. Their eldest son, Harry, was just a month older than Rose and they had attended school together when they were children. Of their other two children, George, Jr. was thirteen and Eleanor was eleven.

Rose chatted endlessly to Madeleine as JJ spoke to George Widener about business. George's youngest children seemed bored by the unnecessary chatter and began to play with their napkins, receiving a scolding from their mother as a result.

The table's conversation turned to business and George Widener mentioned that Rose was engaged to be married to the Hockley steel tycoon, Caledon. With that, her blood ran cold. Just thinking of him was enough to scare her. She wished with all her heart that he never found her. But that was probably a wish which would never come true, for he knew where she lived with her mother. He knew her last name, and it would be easily traced. He had the power to track her down, no matter where she went. But for now, she would have to face that moment when it came to her.

Her mother, Ruth, was desperate for Rose to marry into wealth, for when her father, Richard, had passed away when she was eleven, he had left them with barely enough money to survive. Ruth had wished to continue to live in luxury, but to Rose, even then she would have rather lived in a shabby hotel than be forced into marriage to someone she felt she could not love.

All of her life, she had read romantic novels. She wanted a love like that to come to her and to prove her mother was wrong when she had told her over and over, "Fairytales don't come true. It's all fictional. Love isn't like that and it never will be."

Maybe she was right. Maybe she would never be happy with a man and would have to face the fact that she would someday have to marry a man she didn't love in order to have children.

The talk of Cal had been enough to listen to for one day. The endless praise the table had for him meant nothing to Rose, and she excused herself up on deck for some air.

Jack Dawson sat puffing away on a rolled-up cigarette. The wind through his hair made him feel alive. He loved this time of day, when the sun shone brightly and the late afternoon air was cool and crisp. He took out his sketchbook and began to create some lines. His hands moved professionally, as he wasn't actually sure what he was to draw. He stopped momentarily, took the cigarette from his mouth, and thought for a moment. He was all dried up. He sighed heavily and thought of giving up. He sat almost at the stern of the ship on a bench. He knew he probably wasn't supposed to be in these parts, but he didn't really care. He wasn't doing any harm. Jack threw the small piece of charcoal onto the almost blank paper and gave up. He sighed in annoyance. He tried to think of something which would bring little inspiration to him.

He heard footsteps behind him. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it. Who else would come to this end of the ship alone? Then, moments later, he heard the distinct sound of heels clacking against the wooden deck. It was obviously a woman. His head whirled around to see who it could be and his heart sunk immediately.

"Rose?" he asked, concerned.

There was Rose. Her hair was unpinned and loose around her shoulders, her face seemed redder than usual, and her eyes were puffy. She appeared to have been crying.

Rose hadn't expected to see Jack here, of all places. She had come for some peace and quiet. The tea table had turned to chat of Caledon Hockley and she could no longer stomach it. She felt achy, almost dazed and confused. She had boarded this ship to escape Cal, and now she had no idea what she was to do when she docked. While Rose had been in London, she had telegrammed her mother to inform her of Cal's actions and that she would board the Titanic home. After Rose had returned to her stateroom after tea, there had been a note shoved under the door. The wireless officer had brought it to her room to inform her that she had received a message from her mother. It read:

 _Rose,_

 _How can you be so foolish as to abandon Mr. Hockley? You are his wife in practice. You should honor him, young lady. Do not return without the presence of Mr. Hockley._

 _Ruth DeWitt Bukater_

Rose had simply torn up the letter in response, out of anger, but mostly because of fear. She now had no home. She was no longer welcome in her mother's house, unless she was to marry the monster she had left in Paris.

If Rose was to come face-to-face with Cal again, surely he would want revenge and most likely even kill her for the humiliation she had made sure he endured.

"Rose?" Jack repeated louder. He wasn't sure if his voice had been audible the first time he had spoken. Upon hearing Jack's voice, Rose lifted her head and her eyes met his.

Immediately, he came to her and moved closer. He wasn't sure what to do, but she was clearly upset.

"Come, Rose. Sit down." Rose nodded as he took her hand and led her to the wooden bench. She seemed to be in a dream. Her head felt lost. Everything that had happened seemed to have come at once. "What is wrong?" Jack asked. He wasn't sure if he could help, or if she would even reply.

"Everything, Jack. Everything," she replied, sighing. Jack could hear the frustration in her voice.

"Is there something I could do to help, maybe?"

"No, Jack. Nothing. There is only I who can untangle myself from this mess. But even that seems an impossible task."

Her head was just a huge whirlwind of thoughts and she wished that everything would just become simple. She wished she could live a simple kind of life where everything was in order, there were no rules and restrictions, and where she was free to do what she wanted.

"There are so many complications in my life, Jack. If only you knew the half of it. You wouldn't even dare to sit here with me."

Jack frowned a little at her comment.

"Why? What have you done? What's so terrible, Rose? Nothing could stop me from wanting to be here with you.''

For a brief moment, their eyes met. She wondered if he actually meant the words he said. From the serious look on his face, he did. Maybe he was feeling what she was. Or maybe he was just trying to be a good friend.

"I do wish you'd tell me."

Rose sighed a little before almost beginning to tell the story, and then she realised she couldn't. Jack was the only person she could trust aboard this ship, and she couldn't even tell him that.

Cal Hockley had affected her in a way she had never thought she could be. Just the name filled her with dread. She would be his forever now. He would find her and her mother would force them to marry. Rose had no skills or experience to work and hold down a job. She probably couldn't even survive as a working class woman. She had money which would last her a few years, but her family name would give away her identity. It was hopeless. Maybe she should have given in to Cal's urges and let him have his way with her. Maybe this life was what she was meant to live. Women's choices were never easy, and this choice she was about to make certainly wasn't-but maybe she should just give herself up and marry the man she didn't love.

Tears flowed from her eyes, knowing that even thoughts of him scared her. She knew what her life would be like when she docked, and she was frightened of the future. Just days before, she had been happy to have escaped, but no she had little or no choice.

"Rose?" Jack saw the tears run from her eyes and he took her hand in his. As he did, he felt her pull away from him immediately and she stood. Before he knew it, she was running down the deck away from him, sobbing.

He wondered what he had done. He had to know what had made her so hysterical so he picked up his portfolio and took off after her.

When he reached the first class entrance, she had vanished from sight. He didn't know where she had gone. He sighed heavily and gave up. He checked his pocket watch. The time was 5:15 PM. Dinner wasn't served for another two hours.

 _Maybe I should go to her stateroom and call upon her,_ he thought. But then his thoughts ceased. He was terribly worried about her. Her own thoughts had made her become this victim of her own imagination. She had bottled up a lot of information and Jack wanted her to come out with it. He wasn't a gossip. She knew that. But was there anything, really, that he could do?

She seemed so off-limits to him. They were of the same social status, yet she seemed so much higher than him. Like an angel, and he was just a stable boy pining after her. Jack knew that she would never have the same thoughts he had for her in a million years. He knew that he and she could never be. But he wished hard he could just help her become the person she once was when they met on deck.

It was just days before, but it seemed like forever.

By the time it was time for dinner, Rose seemed to have composed herself a little. She had thought of not attending dinner, but she knew she would have to or the people she sat with would be worried if she didn't attend without an explanation.

She had dressed in a cream and navy dress which came to the floor. A small blue flower rested on the shoulder and Rose wore ivory gloves to match. The sapphire and diamond ring which once belonged to her grandmother sat on her finger. Her earrings were of aquamarine and her necklace matched.

The elaborateness and colour of her dress did not match her mood. She felt black. She felt as though this once grand ship was a slave ship taking her back home in chains. Once again, Rose put on the brace face she was so used to from growing up in a prominent and wealthy family.

At seven o'clock, a knock sounded at the door. Rose was already dressed in her fine clothes and came eye to eye with Jack at the door. Just the sight of him made her heart soar, but she held back her enthusiasm and controlled her nerves.

"Hello, Jack," she greeted him calmly.

"I was wondering how you were. If you were to accompany me to dinner?"

"I'm very well, thank you, and no, there will be no need for me to be accompanied." Rose kept her composure. All of the etiquette and education she had learned all of her life stopped her from just running into his arms and accepting his offer.

"Rose…why are you being like this?" Jack knew he had to cut out the pretence now. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he felt she was avoiding him for some reason, and he wanted to know why.

"Excuse me?"

"Why have you changed so?"

"I have not changed. Do not assume things, Mr. Dawson."

"Why avoid me?" he asked her straight out. "Why are you keeping up this falseness? You're not one of them, Rose, and I know it. You know why? Because I know you. I know you probably better than these people who have known you from your childhood. Why avoid me?"

He wanted to know now. He was desperate. He took one step closer to her and was almost inside her stateroom. She looked up at his handsome face and saw genuine concern. She wanted to just lose herself in his gaze and it took her all of her strength to stop herself from falling more and more for him.

It was then that she felt as though she had been slapped hard across her face. Falling for him? That was it. She was falling for him. It was then that she knew why she was feeling all of this; why she was so nervous, why she was so on edge. With him so close to her, she could feel his breath on her cheek. His amazingly blue eyes on hers. She gazed at his lips and for once in her life wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.

It was then that she stopped herself from thinking. Kiss him? God, what was wrong with her? She felt crazy. She had known this man for a little over two days and was having these sort of thoughts. She had known Cal for two years and hadn't had these sort of thoughts about him.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore, Jack. I don't know how I feel about…"

She stopped, not wanting to continue that sentence, afraid what she might confess.

"About what, Rose?" Jack asked. He seemed a little hopeful, and he was. He was wondering what the ends of the sentences were. He glanced down at her, dressed in her fine wear, her beautiful dress and delicate gloves, but even dressed down in daywear, her beauty shone through. She was radiant. Her face had glowed with happiness the day before, but now she seemed to have lost her shine.

"About anything, Jack. Please, just leave…"

Defeated and crushed, Jack nodded understanding and turned to leave. As he reached the corridor, he turned and saw that Rose had closed the door almost in his face. He nodded once again and continued his stroll to the dining saloon. Maybe food would perk him up, but he knew it wouldn't. She would remain at the front of his mind all night.

The dinner table was alive with the usual faces-the Astor's, Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert, the Duff-Gordons and, of course, Jack and Molly.

Molly continued to chatter endlessly through dinner. But to Rose, her stories seemed to fade into the background noise of mindless chatter.

What mattered to these people? Obviously not the important things of the world such as war, child cruelty, poverty. All of these subjects were actual problems. Not just who had the most money or who owned the most property. It was hideous.

Rose could feel Jack's eyes burning into her. She had caught his gaze several times throughout dinner. It was then that she had realized that attending dinner was a bad idea. She had remained unusually quiet throughout and picked at her lamb. She felt sick. The heat in the room seemed to burn her body and she felt more melancholy than ever before. She wondered if she stood up and screamed at the top of her lungs if anyone other than Jack would actually pull away from their so-called important conversations to look at her.

"Isn't that right, Rose?"

Rose blinked her eyes and realized she was being spoken to. She hadn't heard the mention of her name until now.

"I am sorry?" Rose turned her attention back to the table. She saw the look on Jack's face and he smiled a little, but Rose didn't smile back. She just composed herself as a proper young lady would.

"You are to marry Mr. Hockley within the year." The question came from Duff-Gordon, a man who ran in the same circles as Cal.

Rose was floored. She simply did not know what to say.

"I…um…yes. Yes, that is correct."

"He is a lucky man. Such a respectable gentleman. You have done well, Miss Rose. He is a fine man."

Closing her eyes, Rose muttered words of prayer to help her through this dinner.

"Yes," she simply replied.

"When are you to marry, Miss Rose? Before the year is out? Please do send an invite. It is such a long while since Caledon and I spoke together. I hear business is booming for him."

''Of course.''

''And then perhaps children will follow?''

That was it. How could she take much more? She stood immediately and suddenly, shaking the table and sending an expression of shock across the faces of those at the table.

Rose glanced at the exit and saw a few more eyes upon her from other tables. Everything which society had ever taught her had stopped her from just sprinting out of the room and never wanting to return, but she calmed herself and managed to clear her bleary eyes.

"Do excuse me. I am not feeling so well. Please continue to enjoy the evening. Good night."

Rose smiled, nodded, received a few good nights in return, and within seconds, the party had forgotten her existence at the table in the first place.

When she had reached the exit, Rose ran as fast as she could out on deck. She felt the freezing cold air hit her at once, but she continued to run and run as fast as she could until she reached the railing. She glanced over it with blurry vision. When her vision cleared, she saw the drop into the cold, dark water of the Atlantic below her. She contemplated what it would be like to drop the eighty or so feet into the darkness. She wondered how fast death would come to swallow her up. She knew that jumping from a ship in the evening would make sure she was never found.

She pondered for a minute and then frantically let rip. She pulled at the pins in her hair and threw each one to the ground, freeing her curls. She grabbed her necklace, ripped it from her throat, and threw it overboard into the darkness below. The necklace was worth thousands and she knew it would never be recovered. She felt like stripping herself of every ounce of wealth she owned.

A sob overcome her, she felt her chest tighten, and she suddenly couldn't breathe.

Seconds later, she heard footsteps behind her. Quick and uncertain, like a man's. She whipped her head around, cleared her vision, and paled at who she saw.

"Jack?" she whispered. He had come to find her. She could not explain the happiness she had at just seeing his face. She thought no one would follow her or even care-but he did and that stripped away a layer of her icy exterior and some warmth set in.

Jack inched closer to her. He could feel the chill and saw her small shivers. Various lights lit the deck, but it was the moonlight and the stars which provided the luminous beauty on her face.

"Rose, what's wrong?" His voice cracked. He was unsure of what to do or how to approach her.

"Nothing, Jack. It's just…" She trailed off, unsure herself what was wrong. Where does a person start?

"Just what? Why are you so nervous around me?"

Rose blinked back her tears. She didn't know herself why she was so nervous around him. Was it because of Cal? Was she afraid to be hurt again? Was she afraid to let herself love another man because she feared he would turn out to be just like that monster?

Rose settled. She thought of whether to tell Jack or not. He came closer to her and she felt herself go dizzy. Her head pounded and she felt sick.

"Jack…the real reason why I left the great Caledon Hockley is because…well…he attacked me."

Jack's stomach lunged, not expecting such an admission.

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. He made sexual advances and when I objected, he attacked me. I hit him with a vase and left him lying in his own blood on the bed. I took ten thousand dollars from the safe and fled Paris."

Just reliving the memory was enough to cause a heart-wrenching sob to escape her lips. Jack wanted so badly to pull her body close to his, to comfort her, but he didn't know how to approach this woman before him.

"My God, Rose. How could he harm you? How could he have looked at you with anything else other than love?"

She didn't know what Jack was referring to, but she felt more tears escape her eyes and run down her cold face. She could see her own breath in the air and could feel the cold wrapping its chill around her body.

"And now…now I'm so scared, Jack. I'm so scared of him finding me and wanting revenge."

With that, Jack pulled Rose a little closer to him. She rested her head numbly on his shoulder, felt his arms wrap around her, and in those few seconds, she felt more loved than she had in a long time. She hadn't been embraced for years. She had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"He won't, Rose. I'd never let that happen to you, ever. I could never let harm come to you. I couldn't live with myself if I did."

Jack knew his truth was slowly being revealed. He loved this woman in his arms. He had since the first moment they had met. Just feeling her body next to his made him feel warm in the mid-Atlantic chill. He would do anything to make her happy or protect her in any way. If she wanted him to, that was.

Rose pulled away slowly. She felt the moment turn awkward as she realized what she was feeling now. Stronger feelings than ever…so strong she had to take a step backwards to calm her emotions.

"Now you're here. The exact opposite of Cal. So kind, generous, caring, and thoughtful…'' Rose halted, not knowing exactly what to say or what she was feeling. Was it love? Or just an attraction? She didn't know. Her heart felt as though it was being ripped open because she knew as soon as she said those words of what she felt, she would never be able to take them back. She knew as soon as she admitted her feelings to Jack she would have to admit them to herself, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to.

''I feel...''

"What, Rose? What do you feel?"

"I feel…"

"What, Rose?" Jack pushed her. He wanted to know. There was no going back now.

Rose took a long pause and a deep breath. She wasn't even sure how to communicate anymore.

"Things I have never felt before…for you."

She had said it now. It was admitted. She had thought Jack's reaction would have been worse than it was, for he simply smiled warmly as he looked into her eyes. She could feel herself falling into him.

"You have?"

Jack couldn't believe she had told him this. A smile crept across his face. He had never felt happiness like this.

Rose ripped her eyes away from his at his response. She felt more exposed than she ever had in her life, and she didn't like it.

"Jack, don't you dare look at me that way. I have never felt so exposed.''

Jack's heart sank. He hadn't meant to pry.

"Rose, look at me. Please."

He wanted to show her he felt the same way. He wanted her to know how happy she had just made him, to know what she felt and that it matched his feeling exactly.

Nervously, Rose lifted her eyes from the deck and up to Jack. She watched as his tender hand touched her left cheek. He felt how cold she was and he pulled her body a little closer to his by placing his hand on the small of her back.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, so that their lips came into contact for just the briefest few moments. Rose felt her heart flutter and all of her nerves seemed to disappear. She was experiencing emotions she had never felt before.

When he pulled his face away from hers, he gazed at her lovingly to observe her reaction. Shakily, her hand raised to her lips and she gently touched the area where his lips had been seconds before.

Gently, Jack took her hand in his and moved forward once again. He kissed her again with more passion than the first time. She could feel his warmth next to her, but yet she still shivered. The outside world seemed to disappear. It was just them now. No more words were needed to express what each felt towards the other.

For both of them, it was their first kiss, and it was a moment neither would forgot.

Jack felt Rose's small shivers. He pulled away from her, removed his tuxedo jacket, and draped it around her shoulders. To his surprise, she put the jacket on properly before thanking him quietly. She felt shy and, to be honest, so did he. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him once again.

"I want to do what I can to make you happy, Rose," he whispered into her ear. He didn't see the tears rolling down her cheeks, but he smiled and gazed at the stars. He felt it was his duty to protect her now.


	6. Learning To Let Go

_April 14, 1912_

Jack blinked in disbelief. He was amazed by the opulence of Rose's stateroom. Of course, his was beautiful, but this was like a dream.

He set his drawing materials on the marble table and turned to Rose.

"So, you got the most luxurious suite on the ship?" Jack laughed.

"It was last minute. I was transferred to travel on the Titanic because of the coal strike, and a gentleman dropped out of sailing at the last minute, so I accepted this suite."

Rose strolled into the wardrobe room and Jack followed her. Again, he was taken away by the size.

"Rose, I could live in here alone." They both laughed.

"Breakfast is served, Miss!" a steward called from the sitting room.

Rose had ordered breakfast to be served in her room this morning so she and Jack could dine alone, away from prying eyes. Rose strolled to the private deck, followed by Jack.

Sunlight was shining across the deck. Their table was set up with croissants, orange juice, and coffee and a single red rose sat in a small vase in the centre of the small table.

"I wish every morning was like this, Rose," Jack stated. He felt like he was in a dream. Rose smiled at his romanticism.

"I wish every day was as straightforward as this. I wish my life was easy. I wish I could make decisions which I will benefit from."

Jack frowned, taking a sip of his coffee. He thought she seemed happy this morning.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I just have so much to face when I dock, it's unreal. I could face becoming homeless."

"That will never happen, Rose. I won't allow it."

"I can't just leave my mother alone. I love her. She is a selfish and unreasonable woman, but still my mother."

Jack nodded, understanding.

"I have so many thoughts I wish I could banish."

"Well, talk to me, Rose…make me understand. Lift the heavy weight from your shoulders."

"I wouldn't want to burden you, Jack. They're not your problems, they're mine. But thank you."

Jack nodded. Inside, he was a little worried for her. He didn't know what was wrong. He wished she would share her thoughts with him and open up to him. But she seemed so much like a closed book. He knew very little of this woman, yet he knew he felt something for her, but his knowledge of her as a whole was a small fraction.

The rest of their day was spent together. They attended lunch together and dined with Mr. Andrews, the Astors and, of course, Molly.

Mrs. Brown was a wealthy woman from Denver. Her husband had come into some money and it had obviously caused quite a stir when she had joined their social party. A large number of the rich had been born into their social status, like Rose had. Others had built up a business from scratch and had earned money that way. Molly was a rather plump lady and had more personality than the entire table had merged. She was a little fiery and loud, but Rose found her to be a fascinating woman. She had fought for women's rights for a few years and still continued her work, no matter what the men of the world thought of her, and for this, Rose admired her deeply. Rose had apologized for her sudden disappearance the evening before at dinner, blaming sickness and, of course, the table had bought into this. They wouldn't have an inkling in the world of what had really happened last night and if they did, they most certainly would have shooed both Jack and Rose from the table. Maybe that was the best part of the whole thing. It was a secret.

Sunset. The sky was a blend of pink, orange, and yellow. The deck was almost deserted, with the exception of a few couples who strolled quietly in the late evening breeze. Most passengers were inside, preparing to attend dinner. Jack and Rose had chosen to opt out of attending dinner and just chose to spend their evening together. The Titanic would be docking soon and they wanted to spend as much time together as possible, for neither of them knew what would happen when she did dock.

Rose's dress seemed to match her mood-colourful and free. It was many shades of pink, blue, and lilac. It seemed to flow as she strolled, her left arm linked through Jack's. Her coat was a dark beige and did little to shield her from the late evening chill. She wore a diamond and sapphire necklace at her throat. It glimmered in the dim light.

Her hair was pinned just half up, her curls seemed to spiral uncontrollably down her back, and her eyes shone with happiness.

Jack was relaxed as he led Rose on their evening stroll. Even he seemed to have forgotten the way a gentleman was supposed to stand. He seemed to hunch a smiles reflected their inner happiness. This was how Rose wished to live her life, simple and free.

"What a beautiful sunset." Jack beamed as he led Rose to the railing.

"It is. I wish I could witness every sunset and sunrise."

"You will. I'll make sure of it."

Rose laughed. "How will you?"

"I don't know. We'll awake early in the small hours and watch the sunrise and bring us into a wonderful new day."

Rose's smile faded. In just a few new days, the ship would be docking. She knew she couldn't have stayed aboard the ship forever, but she knew that as soon as her feet were back on American soil, she became Cal's property once again. No matter how hard she would try to escape, he would find her. She knew it.

"We dock in just a few days, Jack. What then? How do we see the sunset together from different states?"

Jack shrugged before gently touching Rose's soft cheek. The beautiful orange glow cast a light over her face and to him she had never looked so stunning, yet at the same time, so innocent.

"I don't know, Rose." And he didn't know. He couldn't lie or pretend. They had both already made plans for when they arrived home and they didn't include each other at first, but now?

"My plan was to return to my mother, no matter how cruel or selfish she is. She is all I have, Jack. I cannot survive this world alone. I have no skills, no talents. Maybe becoming the wife of Caledon Hockley is my destiny."

Jack shook his head. "No, Rose. You see that?" He gestured to the ocean and the breath-taking sunset. "This is yours now. Follow the horizon. Chase your dreams."

Rose shook her head. Jack was not being logical.

"Jack, I can't. If Cal finds me, he will probably kill me. I can't keep running like this, Jack. You can chase your dreams, Jack. You're happy…"

"I wasn't happy, Rose. I have everything I need right here with me. Air in my lungs, some blank paper, and you, Rose. That makes me the happiest, to know I have you."

Rose could feel tears in her eyes forming and threatening to fall. No one had ever said anything like that before to her and actually meant it, and she could tell by the way he spoke them to her and the way his thumb caressed her cold hands tenderly that he meant his words.

"Jack…I…I've never lived. I haven't seized the moment. I'd love to be myself, but just take another name and run and be free to roam places I never knew existed. I want to ride wild horses, dance as if no one is watching. I want to spit like a man, smoke like a man. I want to be passionate, you know? Experience passion, expose my naked body to a man and see the love in his eyes as I did so. I want to make love under a starlit sky. I've never done any of those things…"

Jack blushed as she spoke her last few sentences and then gazed at Rose, who was unfazed by her own truth. She was deadly serious.

"I have never even been drawn, Jack."

"How can an artist have not drawn you? You are any artist's dream, Rose."

He meant his words. He would sketch her in a heartbeat and she would be his ultimate masterpiece, although he knew her true beauty could never be put onto paper.

"Am I your dream, Jack?"

She blushed a little at herself for being so forward with her words, but at that moment, Jack could no longer fight himself.

He placed his hand gently on her cheek and then brought his lips to hers. He kissed her with a passion that neither had experienced before, not even last night when they had shared their first kiss. Jack had longed to kiss her. He had longed to feel his lips on hers, and now that he was kissing her, he never wanted to stop. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Although he was just nineteen years of age, he knew what he wanted. Reluctantly, Jack pulled away and saw Rose's body shiver. It was then that he realized the sudden drop in the temperature. It seemed almost icy.

"Maybe we should go inside. I don't want you to catch anything."

Rose nodded and began to walk a little hesitantly. Jack stopped and turned to her, wondering what was wrong.

She turned to face him and simply smiled.

"I am happy, Jack. I have never been this happy."

Jack smiled weakly. "I know, Rose. Becoming king couldn't make me happier than I am with you."

At this, they both laughed. At that moment, Rose, for once in her life, moved closer to Jack, put her hand in his, and gingerly kissed him. It was slow and hesitant. Her move surprised them both but her confidence was building slowly and that was what she needed.

Some onlookers gasped in horror, some even knowing them, but they didn't care. The people would gossip and then something new would come along the next day. This was her life now and she was going to live it.

"So, would you draw me, Jack? I think I should begin living my life…"

''Of course.''

Rose led him inside to her stateroom, out of the evening chill.

Dinner was still in progress, for when Jack checked the time on his pocket watch, it was only 8:15 PM. Neither Jack nor Rose could think of a more boring way to spend their evening.

Dinner seemed endless most nights. The chatter bored Jack to pieces. He himself was not a man who joined in this sort of social circle, but with some of the interesting people at the table, Jack had taken a chance to join them. He would much rather have gazed at the stars for a while, or simply sketched the night away if he been alone. He had met Rose purely by chance, taking the opportunity to enjoy the morning sun and draw some of the life here on the Titanic. He had drawn the ship from the dock, and though he thought so himself, the sketch was one of his best works.

Upon reaching her stateroom, Rose had grown increasingly nervous, not knowing the reason why. She was only with Jack. She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, for he now knew her better than anybody ever had. He knew of her dreams and passions for life. He knew of her feelings and she knew of his.

"I always wanted to fly when I was a child. To just be a bird and soar."

"You can do that now, Rose. You have chosen the path you wish to follow, so follow it. You can do anything you wish to now. Go and be passionate about the things you want."

Rose knew he was right. Maybe she shouldn't be worried about

"I wouldn't know where to start, Jack. Would you help me?"

"Of course. How about we start with that sketch, huh?"

"Yes. Make me look beautiful.'' She told him, shyly.

"Rose, I don't need to make you. You already are the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Any man would be lucky for you to be standing right here with them, Rose. I knew just how lucky I was last night when you confessed you felt something for me."

Rose ducked her head down for a moment, remembering and feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry you ever said anything." Jack worried a little, thinking she was regretting something.

"I'm not sorry, Jack. Just a little surprised I even said anything."

"I am lucky that you have feelings for me…I'm not saying how strong they are or what those feelings may turn into, but one thing's for sure…you have them for me, just like I do for you, Rose. I know just how strong my feelings are for you. Sometimes so much it overwhelms me."

Turning her head away, Rose felt tears fall from her eyes. This felt so real. She knew she wasn't dreaming and that this amazing man was standing in front of her and confessing these words she had never heard before. She wasn't used to it.

"I'm sorry," Jack apologized, not realizing what an effect his words had on her.

"Don't be. I'm just not used to it, that's all. For so many years, I have felt emotionally abandoned, and now I have the opportunity and I don't know what to do with it."

"Follow your heart, Rose…always follow your heart. You maybe overwhelmed at times, but this is the present, Rose. Everything else is in your past. I may not promise you much, but I want to make you happy and give you what you want."

"I do know what I want, Jack…"

Rose's voice sounded timid, almost childlike. Her tears were now dry and she was doing as Jack told her. She was following her heart. She wanted Jack to see her for who she really was before they began to open their hearts properly, because she knew that once she did open her heart, it would never close on Jack. Ever.

"Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls…wearing this."

Rose clutched the necklace at her throat, which had always meant so much to her. Her grandmother's.

Jack nodded, eyeing the necklace as it glittered on her low neckline. "All right," he replied simply.

Rose took a deep breath, not sure what his reaction would be to her request. Would he even consider her request? Her heart pounded as she thought for a few moments and then spoke.

"No, Jack. Wearing only this…"


	7. No Going Back

**Yes, it gets a little bit hot and heavy towards the end. I will leave this warning here :)**

 **Chapter seven: No Going Back**

Jack's breath become fast in his throat and his eyes darted to hers, searching for a clue in her face to see if she was joking, but she wasn't.

How could he draw Rose in such a state. How could one even concentrate?

"Are…are you sure?" he managed. Rose nodded. "If that's what you want, then…I will oblige, Rose." He smiled, his nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

''All right.''

He watched as she started towards her room.

"I will go prepare. Please arrange the furniture to your own comfort. I will be back in a short while." With that, Rose proceeded into her bedroom, leaving Jack more than stunned.

How could he do this? He had suddenly forgotten his own profession. How could he gaze upon her beautiful body and not want to just kiss her all over? He felt a little sick with nerves. He had never seen a woman he was in love with nude before…but then again, he had never been in love. Was he really in love, or was this something else? He didn't know. He knew he wanted her, though, in body, mind, and soul he wanted her.

He knew he couldn't save her from the confines of the society that they both seemed to be trapped in, but he could save her from Cal. He couldn't offer her much, but he had a little which he could offer her. He knew Caledon Hockley was worth more of a fortune that he, but Jack knew with Rose it wasn't about money. She trusted him fully and he knew that. She wouldn't have asked him to draw her nude otherwise. At that moment, Jack knew that Rose would soon be a changed woman. She needed to live, to enjoy herself, to become free, and Jack would do everything in his power to help her along the way.

Rose removed the pins from her hair and shook her head to loosen her curls as they fell down her back.

She had feelings only women had. He had held her so closely, his hand falling loosely to her waist and he had held her hand and stroked her face so tenderly.

Cal could run his hands to her waist and pull her body to his, on many occasions she had felt his erection against her but she had walked away leaving a trail of frustration behind her. She wasn't ready to be naked, for a man almost twice her age to see her body.

She was insecure. The list of imperfections which her Mother would scrutinise; she would burn in the sun, the freckles on her arms, a scar on her left knee, stretchmarks on her waist from rapid growth at such a young age and the breasts which she never felt fully fitted her body.

But he had kissed her, stirring a desire which she had never felt or known about. The urge to be fully exposed to him was exhilarating. She wanted to shed her identity for she was no longer a child but a young woman.

She reached up to remove the butterfly comb to allow her curls to fall freely down her back. She stroked the comb in the dim light before catching sight of herself in the mirror.

She was naked.

She traced her index finger from her shoulder to her waist and her skin was soft to touch. She touched a small stretchmark on her waist and traced her eyes to the curve of her hip then upwards to her breasts and her face. This was how he was going to see her. Nerves fluttered not from his reaction but from standing naked before a man who had made her feel like a woman. There was a longing there, a need and a struggle to contain it but she didn't know exactly what it was.

She wasn't the first girl he had seen nude and her body probably wasn't the first he'd touch but she knew he felt the longing too. Was he nervous? She sensed so. His reaction to her request was one which had caused an intense stare between them both and then he had leant forward to kiss her so tenderly as he closed his eyes he had fought with something inside of himself and she would like to know what that was.

She was timid, almost frigid as Cal would call her. He made her oversensitive and defensive, a man she should give herself to fully and at this very moment she knew that she never would. She glanced over her figure again. She had insecurities and imperfections but he would see through to her very core. She was opening up to him and stripping back every layer she had ever built up.

Shakily she reached out for her kimono and draped it over her body. It did nothing to cover her.

She knew her request had come as a surprise to Jack, but she had to break free and she knew he would do what he could to help her. A small smile crept onto her face as she pondered what his reaction would be to her naked figure standing before him. Her heart was pounding thunderously in her chest and her hands shook slightly. Rose thought of her mother and what her reaction would be to her well-behaved daughter appearing naked in front of a man she had barely known four days. That was the part Rose relished the best, knowing she was rebelling against everything she was ever taught.

With a deep breath, Rose almost had to push herself out the door. But she was ready.

Jack had positioned the divan to face him and had settled himself on a chair. He had removed his jacket, waistcoat, and bowtie and relieved himself of the shirt collar digging into his throat by unbuttoning his shirt almost halfway. He was never one for dressing over the top, but this society required him to.

Rose approached the door and as she placed her hands on the doorknob, she saw that her hands were visibly shaking. She turned the knob. Jack was sharpening his charcoal with a small knife when he heard Rose's door open. She emerged, wearing nothing but a sensual black kimono and, of course, the necklace at her throat. Slowly, Rose began to approach the divan, which Jack had arranged for her to pose on.

Rose wondered for a moment what Jack must think of her. His face seemed expressionless. She wondered if he sensed her nervousness. She took a few steps closer to Jack before slowly reaching her delicate, shaking hands up to part her kimono. She did this wordlessly for nothing was needed to be said in that moment and the ones which would follow.

The garment fell to the floor with a whisper. Self-consciously, Rose brought her hands up around her stomach. It took every bit of strength in her to keep herself from quickly covering herself. Jack was in awe of the beautiful woman who stood nude before him. The experience was more challenging than he imagined. The looks which transpired between Jack and Rose gave each other the confidence to continue.

"Over on the bed…the couch," Jack stuttered. Rose immediately felt more at ease, knowing that he, too, was nervous. Jack allowed the artist in him to take over. Rose lay herself on the divan and positioned herself as Jack instructed her to. She trusted him completely.

With one arm on the cushion above her head and the other by her face, Jack began his masterpiece. Rose could feel Jack's eyes running over her naked body. While she felt so nervous and exposed, at the same time she felt so alive at this new experience. She had never stood nude before anyone before, let alone a man. But Jack was different.

His head took charge for the time being. He gripped the charcoal, feeling the filings chip away against his skin. His sketchbook lay open on the table and as he picked it up he saw his hands were shaking. He took a few more seconds to regulate his own breathing.

She lay on the divan couch before him. Her waist length copper curls spread out around her. There was something wildly open about her and yet so vulnerable at the same time. He took a deep breath before staring at the blank paper; by now inspiration had usually come to him. He was male, of course he enjoyed admiring the female body and to put it onto paper as much as he did while in Paris made his job even more enjoyable but then he would not stay around to watch their clothes be put back on. Too much inspiration came to him; he was too scared to admire her for fear of not been able to stop. He fought against those feelings and anything else which came to light in that moment. His ears were ringing; it was as though an electric current was running through him and into his veins.

He put his charcoal against the paper. A line formed into another. He managed to glance ahead at her face. She was nothing short of perfection. She wasn't relaxed he could tell. All of the other girls would lie there, exuding confidence but none of them had lain quite like her. An heir of innocence flew around her. He found he had stopped drawing and just stared rudely. He heard the drop of something on the paper and he realised he had dropped his drawing aid. This bought his back to reality for just a second, he was such a mess. He picked it back up seeing his trembling hands.

He scratched his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He pulled his sketchbook back onto his knee and took a deep breath which turned into a sigh. Something inside of him took over, he began to create lines and he didn't think anymore. His hands moved like fluid over the paper, rapidly creating the masterpiece which would be his own. He eyes darted around her body, her flat stomach and the smooth roundness of her breasts. Her face had been the starting point, the translucent beauty of her skin and the emerald green of her eyes which could never be captured as perfect as they were. The copper curls which lay around her body, a few strands which fell over her face and then her waist.

As his eyes ran over her body, Jack could feel himself blushing as he sketched her most intimate parts. When he drew, his face was deadly serious. He had never felt as engrossed as he was right now. He could draw her all day long just so he could be in her very presence.

She tried to picture a more intimate moment than this. Even the women of Paris wouldn't have shared times like this with him, of that she was sure and smiled.

"I see you are blushing, Monsieur Big Artiste."

Jack laughed a little as he began to smudge the lines he had created. Jack's hair fell into his eyes as he gazed over his sketchbook and at her. At that moment, Rose felt her stomach flutter. It was as if he could see right through her.

''And yet I cannot imagine Monet blushing?''

''That is because he does landscapes.''

She giggled a little, distracting Jack.

"You're laughing."

"Sorry."

"Just relax your face. No laughing."

Rose took a deep breath as Jack continued to sketch her. She was at ease now, knowing that Jack was all right with the situation. She knew she had been a little forward, but it was what she wanted. When he drew, Jack's face was deadly serious. He was so engrossed in his work, making sure that each line was purely perfect and she admired him tremendously. He was incredibly talented.

Minutes later, the drawing was complete.

"All right. I'm done." Jack broke the silence.

Quickly, Rose retrieved her kimono before Jack could see anything. He had just finished smudging a line or two.

"May I see it?" Rose asked, quietly. She felt as though she needed permission to.

"Of course."

Steadily, Rose came up behind Jack and gazed over his shoulder. The drawing took her breath away. The woman on the paper was so beautiful it was difficult to comprehend it was actually herself. She touched the edge of the paper before sighing. It really was her.

"Date it, Jack. I want to always remember this night."

Jack scrawled the words _JD, April 14th 1912_ at the bottom of the paper before taking a moment to admire his art. He was impressed by it. She really was an amazing woman. He closed the portfolio and handed it to Rose.

"Thank you."

Standing, Jack took Rose in his arms and she kissed him a little hesitantly, not quite sure of what to do. She was a little uncomfortable knowing she had just been nude before him, and now here he was, kissing her.

"Thank you, Jack. It's beautiful." Rose smiled and pulled away a little.

"So are you, Rose…"

Rose blushed a little, but her eyes never left his. It was like he held her beneath some sort of spell and it was hard to break free. How had she come across a man as gentle and kind as Jack? What had she done to deserve him? He was everything a man could ever be and more. Rose was sure at that moment that she had fallen in love with him. A love which could only grow stronger in time, if he felt the same, obviously. Rose remembered her words from earlier in the day when they had been up on deck, watching the sunset. She had told him her dreams and she wished he could be part of her life, so now she was going to begin to put her dreams in motion and nothing could stop anything which would happen tonight. Neither of them could.

"I was so nervous, Rose. I thought I wasn't going to be able to concentrate."

"I was scared, too. My heart pounded…"

"My heart is still pounding. Knowing you're in my arms like this…I don't ever want this to end, Rose. I don't want this night to end…"

Leaning forward, Jack gingerly touched her face and then kissed Rose's forehead tenderly. He kissed her eyelids and her nose before kissing her lips softly. His hands moved to the small of her back and he caressed her gently.

He could feel feelings stirring inside him which he had never felt before. He was overwhelmed by his feelings for this woman who was in his arms.

He knew he loved her. He had probably known since that first day up on deck.

Slowly, Rose's unsteady hands reached up to Jack's shirt buttons, and hesitantly, she undid them one by one before finally exposing Jack's bare chest. He was well built for a man of his age. She ran her shaking hands over his stomach and chest. For a moment, Jack pulled away, a little breathless, wondering if this was what Rose really wanted.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Slowly, Rose nodded and pulled Jack closer once again to kiss him. Gingerly, he ran his artist's hands up to her shoulders and gently slid the kimono from her body as, for the second time that evening, it landed on the floor with a whisper.

She pressed her bare chest upon his and kissed him once more before taking his hand and leading him into her bedroom.

Both hearts were beating wildly as they continued their kiss inside Rose's bedroom. Clothes were spread out on the floor as they lay nude in each other's arms.

"Rose…if we do this, then I can never go back. This has to be it." He knew that if they made love here and now, he could never just walk away from her again and never see her. If they did this, then he wanted her to be his.

"No, Jack. There's no going back now."

This was all Jack needed to know. He knew that now, after all of the hurt and hesitance leading up to this moment in time, they were together and no one, especially Caledon Hockley, could change that.

"Are you nervous?" Jack asked. His voice was husky.

"No."

And with that, all barriers which had ever stopped them being each other's were broken down. This was it for them now. No going back.

A little while later, Rose lay her head on Jack's chest as he gently stroked her copper ringlets. She could hear his heartbeat as it pounded.

A sense of emotion overcame her and she could feel an urge to burst into tears of happiness. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the intimacy she and Jack had shared. Nothing had prepared her for the experience which making love for the first time would be. She had given herself completely to this man, who she had known barely four days, and yet who she seemed to know so well.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. I think so, Jack. I think so."

Concerned, Jack shifted onto his side and pulled Rose with him.

"You think so? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No. Of course not. It's just us. Me and you. We've known each other for a matter of days."

"Rose, does that matter? There is no time limit when it comes to love…"

"Love?" Rose asked, blinking back tears.

"Yes, Rose. I think I've fallen in love with you.''

For a moment, Jack wondered if he should have confessed such things after the intensity of their lovemaking, but it felt right. This felt right. He loved her and no longer wanted to hide it from her or the world. What would his friends think when he told them he had fallen in love with this wonderful girl?

"Jack…I don't know what to say…"

"Don't say anything, Rose. Don't say anything…"

With that, Jack pulled her closer to him and kissed her passionately once again. She ran her hands up his back and he shuddered a little.

"Jack…when the ship docks, I'm getting off with you."

Jack's eyes widened. He hadn't expected this. "What?"

"I am. We said no going back, and there isn't. Jack, you taught me how to live. You showed me what it's like to be free, and that's what I want."

"Rose…your mother…Cal…"

"I don't care. This is my life. I'm fed up with being treated like a porcelain doll. I'm going to live, Jack. I am seventeen years old and I have the right to do what I choose. My life starts here. I'm yours, Jack…if you want me, that is?"

A rush of love overcame Jack and he gently wiped the tears from Rose's eyes.

"I do, Rose. I do. I want us to share our life together. I promise harm will never come to you, ever."

They shared another long kiss before feeling something shudder, something like a bump. Moments later, the engines seemed to have stopped. Pulling away from Rose, Jack frowned a little, wondering what was happening.

"Did you feel a shudder?"

"Yes. What was it?"

Jack jumped up, pulled on his pants, and found his shirt. Outside, he seemed to hear a slight commotion. Running his hands through his hair, he attempted to neaten it a little.

"Don't worry, Rose. I'll be right back. Just checking what all of the commotion is about."

Rose nodded, something didn't quite feel right in her gut. She was worried about what was happening. She pulled the sheets away from her and strolled to her wardrobe room to find something to wear.

Minutes later, Jack appeared in the doorway. He seemed out of breath, his cheeks red.

"Rose, there's something you should know…"

"What is it?"

"We've struck an iceberg."


	8. A Lingering Sense of Death

_Chapter Eight- Lingering sense of Death_

 _April 15, 1912_

It had just turned midnight when Jack had returned to Rose's stateroom with the news that the ship had struck an iceberg.

Up on deck, people played soccer with chips of ice and men of all ages laughed as they threw the ice chunks to each other.

The berg itself was said to have been big, but had not done the ship great damage. The commotion in the corridor had turned out to be people actually wondering what had happened. No one seemed to really be in any sort of a panic. Jack found it a little hard to believe the ship wasn't damaged, but the steward who he had spoken to up on deck had insisted the ship was unharmed and that they had simply thrown a propeller blade at most.

"Could the berg have done much damage to the ship?"

"I don't know, Rose. I was told we were fine. We may just turn off the engines for the night and continue our journey at dawn."

At that moment, a steward knocked once lightly before he burst into the room.

"Miss DeWitt Bukater, I have been asked to tell you to put on your lifebelt and come up to the boat deck immediately."

Rose rubbed her head. She felt it throbbing vigorously. All of this was too much to take in, she had just been told the opposite. The steward took a look at Rose and smiled.

"It's probably just a precaution, Miss."

"I was told we were all right," Jack interrupted. He would not mess around if his or Rose's life was in danger.

"It may just be a precaution, sir. It's just captain's orders. Now, please dress warmly. May I suggest top coats and hats?" The steward proceeded to the wardrobe, grabbed two lifebelts, and placed them on the sitting room table.

Jack shook his head. "This is ridiculous."

"Sir, what is going on?" Rose asked a little forcefully from her growing impatience.

The steward just shrugged before leaving the room.

"Perhaps we should do as he says. It may just be a precaution, Jack."

"Or not. I will not fool around.''

With that, he stalked to the wardrobe and pulled out a warm-looking coat for Rose.

"Put this on. We'll go up on deck."

Rose dressed herself in a floor-length navy blue day dress and a black coat. She took Jack's hand as he led her out the door.

As they walked down the corridor, people seemed to stare endlessly at the fact that they were holding hands, but they didn't even care anymore. They had admitted to each other their feelings, so other people would just have to come to terms with it.

As they approached the Grand Staircase, passengers were standing around in their top coats and hats. Some wore lifebelts. Others didn't. Whilst others were still in their evening gowns and were proceeding to finish their night as they normally would ignoring the nonsensical commotion around them. The orchestra was playing the usual beautiful tunes and a steward was offering the passengers brandy. Some people took one graciously.

Most of the people were annoyed at being awakened at past midnight. They all thought this nonsense was just a drill, but to Jack and Rose, it was beginning to look a little more serious.

Thomas Andrews, the master shipbuilder of the Titanic, approached the staircase. He seemed to be staring off into a world of his own. Rose approached him, hoping to find out some answers.

"Mr. Andrews?"

"Oh, hello, Rose."

"What's going on? Please tell me the truth."

Mr. Andrews nodded and pulled Rose to one side. He hesitated a little, but knew he would have to tell her, everyone would know soon enough.

"We've struck an iceberg, Rose. The ship will sink."

"For certain?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes. In an hour or so, all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic. Please tell only who you must. I don't wish to be responsible for a panic."

Rose's hand slowly rose to her face in shock. How could this great ship sink when she was dubbed unsinkable?

"The boats are limited, Rose. There aren't enough for everyone aboard. Please, please save yourself."

Rose nodded, absentmindedly.

"Yes. Thank you."

Mr. Andrews turned away and continued his way up the steps. Rose turned to Jack, whose expression matched hers.

"Jack…" was all Rose could manage. She was frightened.

"Come on, Rose. We have to collect a few belongings and get you a warmer coat."

Rose nodded, trusting Jack. The pair ran back to Rose's stateroom, where she donned a large fur coat, the most expensive garment she now owned. She found a pair of gloves and Jack helped her to pull on her lifebelt. Rose opened her jewellery box, took out a few pieces which held special meaning to her, and placed them inside her pockets. Jack took his portfolio and stuffed it into the inside of his jacket.

Rose took one last look around her stateroom. The luxury and beauty of this once floating palace would soon be under the Atlantic Ocean.

Jack led Rose to his suite, where he, too, pulled on the largest jacket he owned, then pulled on some gloves and a hat. He fiddled with his inside pockets before taking some cash from his suitcase and stashing it in his coat.

"It will get us started in New York," Jack said in a rush.

After they left their staterooms for what would be the last time, Rose and Jack found their way up on deck through the crowds of people This ship was like a floating hotel, it felt safer than been on land. Rose shook as she walked the corridors up to the deck where the air was cold and biting and the noise was horrendous.

The first lifeboat which was to be lowered was Boat 7. First Officer Murdoch was in charge of lowering. Several newly wedded couples were loaded into the boat first. The Dickinson's had been honeymooning in Europe and were traveling home aboard the Titanic.

Jack could feel Rose's trembling hand as he held her tightly. She was shivering from the cold and he wished there was something he could do about the whole situation, but he knew that Rose's safety would come first. Even if she was to board a lifeboat alone, she was all that mattered. Jack was a survivor. He would find a way to see her again, and if he didn't…well, that that was something he didn't even wish to think about. Jack and Rose were almost at the front of the lifeboat crowd when Rose felt someone grab onto her hand and almost drag her forward, Jack along with her.

"Step aboard, madam, sir." The officer held onto Rose's arm as he dragged her forward to the edge of the ship and towards the loading lifeboat.

Jack turned to look at Rose. She grabbed his hand. Rose stepped up and into the rickety lifeboat. Jack followed and didn't let go of her hand. Rose sat in the boat and glanced around. The boat was filled with newly wedded people clinging to each turned to Jack who grasped her hand.

"That's the lot." Rose heard Murdoch call.

Suddenly, the boat jolted and all of the women aboard screamed. The lifeboat began its agonizing journey toward the water eighty feet below. The davits didn't look strong enough the hold the boat and Rose gripped Jack's hand for dear life. She couldn't bear to look down at the great drop into the water below.

"Jack…" Rose gasped, noticing that she could see her own breath in the freezing air. Jack wrapped his arms tighter around her body.

"We'll be all right, Rose. I swear it."

They watched as the Titanic grew further away as their boat was lowered into the water. The boat contained just nineteen passengers and was launched at 12:43 AM.

Amongst the people in the boat were a woman and her young child, three couples, and some elderly women. There was plenty of room for more people, but it was thought the boat could buckle.

Once the lifeboat reached the water, Rose's heart beat faster. She was terrified of what might happen. She prayed in her mind over and over that this was some sort of bad dream or that in fact it was just a drill and they would all be safe and back on board by morning and laughed about the experience over hot coffee.

Two men took charge of the oars as the lifeboat began its journey away from the Titanic. A distress flare went off above the boat.

''They wouldn't send those off if this was just a drill.'' Rose whispered to Jack as her teeth chattered. He nodded in agreement. His grip around her tightened, preparing for the worst. They were unsure of what exactly they were rowing away from. The ship still looked sturdy.

The band could be heard playing the _Wedding March_ up on deck, which had a calming effect on most people. Why would the band continue to play if anyone's lives were in danger?

"This is such nonsense." Rose turned to hear a woman bitterly complaining. "By the time we return I would like a brandy and a long bath in hot water. How can the damned captain go to such lengths for just a drill?"

Rose turned to Jack and saw the same fear in his eyes that she felt. They both knew this was more serious than anyone else thought. Jack was just thankful he was with Rose. The officer had confused them for newlyweds, not that it mattered now. The boat was a lot less than half full and Jack knew that the boat could have held many more passengers.

"I intend the write a strong worded letter to the White Star Line about this," one old man chimed in.

Another gentleman took an oar and began to row.

"Pull faster and together," Quartermaster Rowe ordered. He huddled himself in the front of the boat and stared endlessly into space.

Boat 7 rowed as far away from the sinking ship as it could. The black ocean was calm, and as the oars moved in the water, the smallest ripples went across the surface. More lifeboats were being launched from the starboard and port sides of the ship. They, too, rowed away from the ship as fast as they could.

After a while, the ship's tiny portholes could one by one could be seen bobbing underneath the water and then disappearing altogether. This was the only clue the ship was actually sinking. Distress flares were sent flying up into the starlit sky and then crashed back down again, landing everywhere. The ocean was black and almost like glass. The boats were pitch black except for a few green lights being lit inside other boats.

Boat 7 had only two green lights and only one woman had been kind enough to bring a pocketful of crackers to eat while in the lifeboat. A lady sat shivering violently while her two children wept gently. The lady didn't look much older than Rose. She said silent prayers to herself and by the look of her garments she hadn't had much time to dress herself warmly. She wore just a nightgown, a raincoat, and slippers. She seemed to have dressed her children first and then headed to the lifeboat with bare legs. Rose could hear the woman's shivers and looked over in her direction a few times, wondering how she could help.

"Would you like my stockings?" Rose chattered. She had no need for them, as her gown was long, unlike the woman's.

The lady looked at her as if she were crazy, but Rose proceeded to peel off her stockings, surprising all in the lifeboat.

"Thank you," the woman managed to speak through her chattering teeth. "Thank you so much, kind lady."

Rose smiled the best she could before settling herself back into her own seat and pulling Jack closer to her. The poor woman was obviously freezing and hadn't had time to dress warmly. Rose felt she had no need for her stockings when the lady was wearing far less garments than she.

"It's so cold, Jack." Rose could barely speak. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. She could no longer feel her body from the numbness. She thought she had dressed warmly enough, but she was wrong. Jack took her gloved hands in his and cupped his hands around them tightly.

"I know, darling. I know."

Jack gazed upwards at the great ship. She was sinking slowly by the bow, plunging into the deep, dark waters of the North Atlantic slowly. That fact was now slowly accepted by the thousands of people around them. He could make out the figures of men plunging themselves into the freezing water below. He knew that most of those men would die a cold, terrible death. Men whose lives could be spared if they were in their lifeboat. His attention turned to Rose, who clung to his hands for dear life. Her hair was limp and her face was pale. She leaned her head on his shoulder weakly.

He thought of earlier and how different things were now. How could such a perfect evening be ruined by such a tragedy? The consequences of this disaster were unthinkable. How many innocent people would die? His friends Helga, Fabrizio, and Tommy. Were they able to get to a lifeboat safely? How about Molly and the Astor's?

The other people in the boats had now realised this wasn't just a drill. This was in fact a terrible reality. The Titanic was sinking. Distressed expressions appeared on each and every one's faces, as they couldn't bear the terrible sight of the Titanic sinking. The band's music could still be heard playing melancholy songs, the tunes almost haunting amongst the screams of the people as they plummeted to their deaths as the Titanic sank from under them.

Men comforted their wives, mothers comforted their children, children who shouldn't have even been brought to witness such a tragedy, children who would be forever haunted by the night they lost their fathers.

Rose and Jack considered themselves lucky they could be together. The silence was deadly. No one could bear to tear their eyes away from the ship. The moans were haunting. The looks which Jack and Rose shared were of pure terror. How could this be happening? Everything was so perfect just hours before. The ship was to have arrived in New York in the next three days.

The ship's stern began to rise up, pulling the bow vertical beneath the water. Seconds later, the ship split into two halves. The electricity on board flickered before disappearing. The whole ocean was now in complete blackness. The screams and moans grew louder as the stern section of the ship fell backwards and crashed thunderously into the water below. Women prayed for their men, who were most likely clinging to the railing or in the freezing water.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, the ship began to plunge into the ocean. After a few seconds, the Titanic disappeared from sight completely beneath the cruel ocean, where it would lie for eternity taking with it the souls of all who saw.

Rose's body was wracked with sobs as the screams of well over a thousand people shrieked and cried out for help.

"Return the boats!" one man cried while blowing a faint whistle.

"We can't go back. They'll swamp the boat," Quartermaster Hitchens said forcefully.

"But there's plenty of room for more. My husband…could be there…" A woman's voice cracked as she mentioned her husband.

"Do you want to live or die, madam?"

"My husband…" Was all the woman managed before sitting back down, nestling her face in her hands, and sobbing heart-wrenchingly. Just seeing the woman cry for her obviously lost husband was too much for Rose to take. How could a boat with just nineteen people sit and watch as fellow passengers drowned? Sure, the boat couldn't hold a lot more people, but more could be saved.

"I think we should go back for more," Rose uttered quietly. "We only had to row away from the suction. but now we can go back." She had never stood up for anything in her life but this she would. She was fed up of sitting and looking pretty. They had to go back for the others.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"There's plenty of room for more people." Rose stood her ground.

"They'll swamp us. They'll pull us under, too. Is that what you want?"

"You're scaring me. They're people, not monsters."

"We're in the middle of the North Atlantic, madam. If we don't keep rowing, we'll be pulled under by the lot of them. Someone else will go back, but it's our lives now, not theirs. So, pull the damned oars."

With that, Rose took her seat again, staring at the man in charge with nothing but contempt. Jack said nothing as he simply pulled Rose to him. He was proud of her for trying to go back, but maybe the man was right. It was their lives now. But what would happen to them? They had to just sit here and wait. Wait to die. Wait to live. Wait for help which might not even come. All they could do was wait.

As green lights were lit in the boat for guidance, they could hear the gasps and cheers of some other people in lifeboats, thinking that help was there, but obviously, it wasn't. Each time one was lit, false hope was given. The screams of the people in the water eventually died down…leaving nothing but blackness and the lingering sense of death.

 _I just want to point out the story of Jack and Rose been mistaken for a honeymooning couple and pretty much pulled into a lifeboat is a true story. The same couple also gave up several of their garments to those lesser dressed on that first lifeboat which was lowered._

 _I read these accounts in a book when I first wrote this story back in 2008 and it seriously stuck with me. I wanted to approach it from a different angle and not have them fighting for their lives as a first class couple would, I wanted them to face other fears and give it a new angle as been written from a lifeboat and how terrifying it was just to witness the tragedy._

 _Thank you for reading._


	9. A Cruel Reality

**For those who keep asking whether of not this is ending. No, there is another couple of chapters left yet. Possibly 6ish. Unless you all want it to end :P**

Chapter Nine: The Cruel Reality

 _April 15_ _th_ _1912, early dusk._

Disoriented, Rose opened her eyes and squinted heavily, wondering where she was. She couldn't feel her face it was that cold, ice hung in her hair. She was surrounded by ocean and what seemed to be icebergs. The sky was orange with hints of blue and other clues of dawn breaking with such a beautiful sight before her, she contemplated if the night before had been just a dream.

She remembered her and Jack's words from the night before as they had watched the sunset.

 _"What a beautiful sunset." Jack beamed as he led Rose to the railing._

 _"It is. I wish I could witness every sunset and sunrise."_

 _"You will. I'll make sure of it."_

 _Rose laughed. "How will you?"_

 _"I don't know. We'll awake early in the wee hours, watch the sunrise, and bring us into a wonderful new day."_

This wasn't how she had wanted to witness anything. She felt physically and mentally drained. When she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She was cold and damp. Her hair was matted and knotted, her eyes were puffy, and her face was deathly pale. Sitting up a little more, Rose adjusted her eyes to see a ship with the word _Carpathia_ written across the side. It was a lot smaller than the Titanic and people on the ship were looking over the railing down at her and the others on the lifeboat.

An officer on board the Carpathia lowered a rope ladder down the side of the ship and passengers of the lifeboats were allowed to climb up if they were strong enough. Several other lifeboats rowed slowly towards the Carpathia, the passengers were all as lifeless as Rose.

"Rose…there's help here." Rose heard Jack's voice beside her and looked to see him lying there, his hand holding hers. His face was deathly pale and his voice weak.

Rose smiled the best she could.

"I'm so cold." He croaked a little. Rose gently stroked his face and felt a single tear roll from her eye, memories still fresh from just hours before as the Titanic had sunk. That night would live with her for the rest of her life.

"I know, Jack. But help is here."

Jack nodded. His body felt as though it couldn't move. He longed for warmth. His fingers wouldn't bend and his body was stiff. It felt like iron and it was difficult and painful to move.

After boarding the Carpathia, Jack and Rose were given plenty of warm blankets and were sent to the ship's infirmary to be checked for signs of hypothermia by the ship's doctor. Just the feeling of being warm was a luxury for both Jack and Rose.

The doctor examined Rose. She was fine, or as fine as she could be considering. The word the doctor had used was 'lucky.' Jack, however, was diagnosed with mild hypothermia. His hands had been exposed to the cold for a long time, and for now he was unable to move his hands or fingers. He was asked to remain in the ship's infirmary for just one night so an eye could kept on him.

Outside, survivors cried out in pain as they grieved their lost loved ones. Rose stumbled past widows and fatherless children. Just the sight of these people was enough to make Rose break down in floods of tears. She wouldn't allow Jack to see her like this. Taking a seat up on deck, Rose simply placed her face in her hands and sobbed.

How could this have happened? All of those innocent people dying for no reason. How come the lifeboats were launched half full? Why didn't the ship avoid the collision? Why had God done this? So many unanswered questions. Would there ever be an absolution? Rose's next moves were uncertain, too. As soon as the ship docked, there would be a media frenzy. People would instantly recognize her. Jack had shown her how to live, how she could live if she was to be with him. But now he was lying in the infirmary with hypothermia. He hadn't stopped shivering for hours and was almost unable to speak, just like so many others.

Tears spilled from her eyes at the heart-wrenching pain she felt, like no other she had experienced.

Rose returned to Jack in the infirmary, feeling a sense of refreshment. Rose spotted Jack as he sat up in a bed, attempting to feed himself some soup. His fingers were numb and he could barely bend his joints. He was like a ninety-year-old man with arthritis. Rose came to Jack's side and gently stroked the hand which had remained by his side. He was cold. Just the simple task of picking up a spoon had proven to not be so simple. After several attempts, Jack gave up and threw the spoon into the bowl. He felt such an utter fool. He couldn't even pick up a spoon.

"Look at me, Rose. I can't even use a spoon. I'm useless," Jack snapped in a tone Rose had not heard from him before.

"Jack, don't worry. You'll be able to move soon, and you're most certainly not useless." Jack saw Rose's face. She did everything to attempt to raise his spirits even a little. She didn't deserve to be snapped at just because of his own frustration.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"I know how frustrating it is, but be thankful."

"I am, Rose. God knows how much. I am thankful for my life and for you." Rose smiled and gently kissed his hand. She picked up the spoon and stirred the soup before raising the spoon to his lips. Smiling, he allowed her to feed him.

"Jack, while you slept last night, I prayed. I prayed for you and for us. I prayed for all the people lost, for the wounded to be healed. I watched you as you slept, Jack. This morning I awoke next to a man, something I have never done before. I wasn't even scared, just overwhelmed."

"Just to know you're here with me and safe means everything to me, Rose." Gently, Rose stroked Jack's hair away from his face. He was still pale but his eyes shone through more than before. She loved him. She knew that now. She wanted to share her life with him.

"This is what I want, Jack."

"What?" He frowned.

"Just…a simple kind of life. No complications, no rules, to be free. I know it's impossible, Jack. But it's what I want."

"It's possible, Rose. We'll go anywhere you want. Santa Monica? We'll do what we spoke of. You don't need money to be happy, Rose. I'd give it all up for you…I'd give Boston up."

"No, Jack. Not your home."

Jack grasped Rose's hand the best he could. He kissed it gently and closed his eyes for a second, remembering what had happened just days before-they had declared their love for each other. For the first time in Jack's life, he'd felt that closeness to a woman and he had never wanted that evening with Rose to end. But then events altered circumstances.

"Rose, I'd have died for you when that ship sank. Four days it took for me to fall in love with you."

"I know. It seems so sudden, yet so long ago."

Rose began to reminisce about the past week. Just one week ago she had been in London, alone in a hotel room, frightened to her wits' end of what her next move would be, full of fear after Cal's evil attack.

"Rose, what about Cal?" Jack hesitated. This wasn't something either of them wished to speak about, but they knew they had to. "What about your mother?"

Rose bowed her head, remembering her mother's words to her in the telegram.

 _Rose, how can you be so foolish as to abandon Mr. Hockley? You are his wife in practice. You should honor him, young lady. Do not return without the presence of Mr. Hockley._

 _Ruth DeWitt Bukater_

"She doesn't want me, Jack, just the money and the luxury. Maybe it was all she ever wanted." She was used to abandonment. Her father had died. So had her beloved grandmother. Her mother was never a good one. "As far as my mother is concerned, her daughter died on the Titanic. As for Cal, I can only hope he never finds me."

"Oh, he won't, Rose. For I know places in the world he wouldn't dream of searching. It's just us now, Rose. Is that what you want?"

Rose took his hand. "It's all I'll ever want, Jack. Just your love."

Gently touching her cheek, Jack grazed her lips with his. "You have it, Rose. Endlessly forever."

A single tear rolled down Rose's cheek. She felt tired, hungry, and cold, but most of all, she felt love, an overwhelming sense of love. At that moment, she realised she had not yet announced her love to him. She did love him. Of course she did. Once again, Jack kissed her cheek softly before leaning his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and more tears came.

"God, I love you, Jack," she whispered, almost inaudibly. Jack thought he was hearing things until he realised that she had actually just said those words to him. She loved him just as he loved her. A smile crept across his face and he stroked Rose's hair.

That night, Rose fell asleep once again by Jack's side. By the next morning, most feeling had returned to Jack's hands. Although he still ached in places he thought didn't exist, he felt well, considering what he and Rose had been through in the last few days. Jack left the infirmary at dinnertime and for the first time in two days he felt the fresh air. News was circling on board that the ship would be docking the next day, which was something he was glad to hear. He couldn't wait to get Rose to safety. He couldn't wait for them to begin their lives together.

By sunset, Rose and Jack had taken a stroll on deck. They had remembered their promise to witness every sunset together.

She watched the sea from afar and she still found it to be beautiful after everything which it had claimed. Fathers and mothers and children. She clutched Jack's hand. Luck didn't even play a part in this game she realised. It was fate.

"I do hope Madeleine is all right. I haven't seen her on board…or JJ." Rose broke the silence. She felt her heart sink, praying to God nothing had happened to either of them.

Jack, too, was worried a little for his friends Helga, Tommy, and Fabrizio.

"Maybe we should check the survivors' list, Rose. Just to be sure," Jack suggested.

"I don't know, Jack. I don't want to face reality that one of my best friends may have lost her husband or even her baby."

Jack nodded. "I know. But we have to know.''

Rose allowed Jack to lead her indoors, where he had asked to check the survivors' list. He was led into second class, where a steward with a clipboard was busy taking names.

"Excuse me, sir." Jack interrupted the man chatting to a lady with a small, crying child. "I'm sorry, but could you please give me some information about my friends?"

The steward nodded and pulled away from the woman. "Of course. What name are you looking for, sir?"

"Fabrizio di Rossi, or Mrs. Helga di Rossi?"

The man looked through three sheets of lists before shaking his head slowly, sorrow in his eyes. Jack shook his head mournfully. "How about Tommy Ryan?"

Again the man shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, although they could be on another ship." The man attempted to give Jack hope, but it was no use at all.

"Madeleine Astor?" Rose piped in hopefully.

The man scanned his papers and nodded his head. "Yes. Mrs. Astor is resting in the parlour suite. She wishes to not be disturbed. Her husband, John Jacob Astor, is not listed here, ma'am."

"No. JJ can't be gone. He can't leave Maddie." Rose felt hot tears run from her eyes. Jack pulled on her hand and led her away from the sight of young women nursing their newly fatherless children.

"She can't have this baby alone. JJ was nothing but a good husband. How could he leave her?" Rose cried.

The cruel reality of what had happened sinking in slowly. She gripped Jack to stop her sinking to her own knees as she struggled with her own pain.


	10. New York City

**Chapter ten: New York City**

 _April 18, 1912_

The early evening rain poured down over New York City. The clouds were as grey and gloomy as the mood. Since mid-afternoon, people had lined the docks, awaiting the arrival of the Carpathia. Relatives and friends of most of the Titanic passengers awaited news. News of whether the people closest to them had actually been lost in the greatest disaster ever known. Journalists and cameramen joined them, as well as priests and several nuns. An ambulance and embalmers had also been requested at the scene.

It was around eight when the Carpathia had pulled into the docks. Passengers stood on deck, with little or no luggage in their hands. Some were happy for this journey to be over. Others didn't want to face life without their lost ones.

The Statue of Liberty was in close sight. Lady Liberty, who cast a light over the whole of the great city. Taking Jack's hand in hers, Rose gasped. She was enthralled by the beautiful statue. All of her life she had wished to view her and now, here she was. Standing proud and tall in front of her, she shed tears of joy. This was a symbol of her newfound freedom. She turned to Jack, who pulled her closer to him. He was just happy to be home and well and with Rose as happy as she was.

"We're home. This is it now." Jack's voice was soft.

Rose nodded. "Yes. This is a fresh start."

"No going back, Rose?" He wanted to know for sure. He wanted to know if she wanted this as much as he did, because God knew he loved her with all of his heart.

"No, I don't want to lose you. I came so close because of my fears of Cal. But we have come this far." To lose him now would be like dying herself. They had reached home, they had fought off all of their uncertainty and fear, they had even tried to fight their own feelings, but that failed. Love always did seem to conquer all, even death.

"You will not lose me. You have me forever, if that's your wish."

Just as Rose was about to lean forward to kiss him, an officer with a clipboard and pen approached them and cleared his throat.

"Can I take your names, please?" he asked.

Rose turned to Jack. She didn't wish for Cal to find her. This was a new life, a new start for her now.

"Dawson. Rose and Jack Dawson," she replied, her eyes never leaving Jack's. She watched as his eyes filled with love.

"Thank you." The officer walked away.

"I don't wish to be found. Rose DeWitt Bukater died with the Titanic. It's time to start living. If a mindless insect can exchange one life for another, then why can't I?"

Jack shook his head with disbelief at the beautiful woman before him. She was so strong, so brave, and such an inspiration to him. He had never doubted her love for him in the past few days, but now he was certain her feelings matched his. One day he would marry her. He knew that. He leaned forward and gently kissed her face and lips.

At 8:23 PM, the survivors of the Titanic disembarked the Carpathia. They entered their new lives. Jack and Rose avoided the publicity, knowing that if the press saw Rose, they would instantly recognize her and news of her whereabouts would no doubt filter back to her mother and Cal somehow.

Pulling Rose through the crowds was hard, but she had kept her head down and Jack was sure any photographs taken were not of them.

Away from the crowds of people sat a shiny new Renault. A man stood, arms folded, smoking a pipe and leaning against the motorcar. He seemed annoyed at waiting, but he was here to do as he was told. Taking a puff from the pipe, he gazed at his pocket watch and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Bob?" a familiar voice called. He whirled his head around to meet the eyes of Jack Dawson. A smile spread across his face. It had been so long.

"Jack Dawson. So, it's true what we hear. Wandering Jack returned home, eh?" He threw his arms around his old pal. "Hey, sorry to hear about…" Bob trailed off before a smile replaced his look of sadness. "Never mind. We'll talk later. Jump in the car, but not before introducing me to your girl."

Rose's eyes darted to the strange man. He was bald and wore glasses. He must have been around thirty and seemed friendly. Rose smiled a little at seeing Jack's reunion with the man. She assumed they were old friends.

"Bobby, this is Rose."

Rose smiled hello.

''I sent a telegraph whilst on board.''

"Rose…well, does she have a last name?" Bob laughed, teasing Jack.

"Oh…yeah." Jack turned to Rose and saw her eyes narrow. "Dawson," he replied. "This is my new bride, Rose Dawson."

Bob's eyes lit up and he playfully whacked Jack on the shoulder. "No kidding, right? You're married, Jackie?"

Jack nodded and touched Rose's hand. He could feel her shaking. "We-well, we married April the first. The Titanic was our honeymoon." Jack turned to Rose.

''Yes.'' She confirmed.

"Well, then, shut me up. Congratulations." Bob smiled and opened the car door for Rose. Once inside, Bob ran to the driver's seat and started the car.

"Where to, Jack?" Bob asked.

"Um…" It was then that Jack realised he didn't know where to go. They certainly couldn't stay at one of the expensive hotels. "Just downtown New York. Find a vacant hotel."

After an hour of driving, the motorcar came to a halt. Rose was instantly awakened by the jolting of the car. She had fallen asleep after ten minutes of driving. She was in much need of sleep. She gazed through the window at a small house with a _Rooms for Rent_ sign in the window. The rain beat down heavier now and the sky was suddenly ablaze with lightening.

"Shit!" Jack cursed. "Here will be fine, Bob. Now, you drive somewhere safe for tonight, all right?" Jack thrust a twenty into his hand and said his good-byes.

"It was good to see you, Jackie. And Rose, it was lovely to meet you."

Rose smiled through her tiredness. All she wanted was a good night's sleep and to get away from this place as soon as possible. The lights inside the small house looked welcoming, and even though she had probably never been in quarters so small, it looked inviting.

"Bob, don't tell anyone you saw me here, all right? This is between us." Jack made sure he understood.

''Sure, sure.''

With that, Rose and Jack watched Bob drive off into the rain and they darted for cover on the porch of the small house. Nervously, Jack knocked at the door. It had been a long time since he had done this.

An old woman opened the door and her eyes met Jack and Rose's. The young pair were cold and drenched from the rain.

"Oh, my!" She gasped, catching sight of the pair. "Come in. Come in. It's beating down."

Rose and Jack smiled, stepping into the warmth and light of the small house.

"We're here about the room for rent, ma'am," Jack said.

"Oh, yes. Well, it's right up there." The old woman pointed to the top of a steep staircase.

"We'll take it." Jack nodded, smiling. The woman seemed shocked.

"Well, don't you wish to view it?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, no. We'll take it, Mrs.-"

"Smith. Josie Smith. My husband, Eddie, is through there." Josie nodded her head in the direction of a small, candlelit room to the right of them.

"Pleased to meet you. I am Jack. This is my wife, Rose. How much will the room be, Mrs. Smith?"

"Sixty cents for the night, sir." Josie eyed the young couple. They were obviously in a rush. Jack's wife certainly didn't have much to say. They seemed to have a certain elegance about them, especially the lady. Jack held out a dollar to Josie. She took it and thanked him.

"Would you care for cookies, sir? I baked a batch this evening. Or I could make a ham sandwich, maybe? You look hungry."

"You are most kind, Mrs. Smith. That would be lovely." Rose finally spoke up and Josie was right. She seemed to be of an upper class status and Josie wondered just what a fancy couple would be doing here when the most luxurious suites in town were offered just down the street. She shook her head and stopped her own nosiness.

"The room is just at the top of the stairs. I will bring sandwiches and cookies up in a few minutes, along with some tea."

Jack thanked the kind Mrs. Smith and led Rose upstairs. The hallway was narrow and crowded with knick-knacks and pictures. Jack opened the first door at the top of the stairs and allowed Rose to enter first. She gazed around. The décor was beige and brown. A double bed sat in the centre, along with two end tables, a bookshelf, a chair, and a desk. Through the other door was a small closet and then to the right of the room was a small, dark bathroom. It was the smallest room Rose had ever been in, but she didn't care. It was homey, safe, and warm. Jack settled himself into a chair and smiled at Rose, but she didn't return the gaze.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"I-I feel so strange. Like this isn't where I am supposed to be. Maybe I'm just not used to it…"

"Rose, don't worry. We'll be long gone tomorrow. I promise." Jack gently kissed Rose's hand.

Moments later, Mrs. Smith arrived with four small sandwiches, a selection of cookies, and a pot of tea. She huffed away. "Those stairs seem to get steeper, or maybe it's just my age." She laughed.

Jack thanked her and she disappeared back down the stairs. Jack set the tray on the table and gazed at Rose, her mind obviously preoccupied as she curled the ends of her copper hair around her delicate fingers.

"Rose…please tell me what's wrong." Jack was concerned. Rose stopped playing with her hair and turned to Jack, her eyes filled with worry.

"I'm sorry, Jack. Everything from this past week seems to be a huge blur. Do you realise it's just a week today since we met? A week. I feel like I have been through so much in such a short space of time, so much so that when I actually sit to down think about my life, it seems blurry."

"Rose, we have been through so much. We survived the sinking of the Titanic. That night will forever haunt me, Rose. I cannot even bear to think about it. The only thing in my life stopping me from finding a shrink is you.''

A small smile appeared on her face and yet she felt a tear fall. She had worked herself up past the point of exhaustion but out of it all she had been one of the lucky ones, they both have.

"I know. You have kept me sane this past week. If I was here alone, I don't know what I would have done."

"You don't have to think about that now, Rose. I'm here, we're together, and nothing will ever come between us."

It took a few moments but his words finally sank in.

''So who is Bob?''

''Oh, he's an old friend. I met him when I was here the last time. He ran a few errands for me and I telegrammed his business from the Carpathia to let him know to meet us.''

Rose nodded.

''Don't worry. He is a nice guy.''

After they had eaten, Rose took a long, warm bath, and for the first time in days, she felt relaxed. Worries about Cal still ran through her mind, but she knew she and Jack would be out of New York soon to start their new life together. She found it hard to believe that just one week ago to the day they had met on the deck of the Titanic. Now here she was, homeless and penniless, but with the love of a man she trusted with her life. Fate really did work in mysterious ways.

Jack had emptied his jacket pockets of the money he had stuffed in when they had learned the ship was to sink. Altogether, he counted almost twenty thousand dollars. He worried immensely at having to carry around such a large amount of money, but once he was back home, he could rectify any money problems and stash it away safely. He had never been good with money. When he had inherited the estate from his uncle, he had seriously thought of selling up and giving the money away to some charity, but he knew his uncle would wish for him to continue the business. In Boston, he had sold the railroad to another company, but he still had a small share in the business. He was never a businessman, and accompanying his Uncle Eric to meetings and galas had bored him endlessly. The top hat and tails look wasn't for him, but he had gone along with it.

Searching in the inside of his jacket, he found what he was looking for. His portfolio. He smiled and settled himself in the armchair while waiting for Rose to finish in the bathtub. He was glad she could have time alone to relax. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and opened the portfolio to the first page, where he came around his final sketch.

"Phew." Jack touched the paper and traced his fingers over the curves of her body. Just to think, this drawing could have ended up at the bottom of the ocean. He shook his head in amazement.

"I see you're indulging yourself, Mr. Dawson."

Jack's head shot up at the sound of her voice from the doorway. She stood in just her slip, the light, sleeveless undergarment she had worn under her dress. Her hair hung wet around her shoulders and her face now had a little colour.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll put it away, Rose. I just found it…" Jack quickly shut the page and placed the portfolio on the bed. Rose laughed. She hadn't meant to embarrass him so much.

"It's fine. If I remember, it was my request for you to draw me-naked." She glanced down a little before fluttering her eyelashes back at him. She, too, blushed. She took the portfolio in her hands and opened the page to her sketch. She hadn't seen it since that fateful night. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, but she chose to block out the pain, just like she had with Cal.

"I can't even begin to imagine how this is me. This woman is so beautiful and captivating!" she gushed.

"This is you, Rose. This is how I see you."

Rose slowly turned her face to him and gently touched his face. The love in his eyes was pure. She saw that. She melted every time she looked at him. She hadn't felt warmth in days, but now she felt like she was on fire. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for his left hand and placed it on her waist. She could feel the warmth flowing from his body and as he leaned down to kiss her, she once again became lost in the passion.

She felt breathless and powerless and they both knew what was about to happen between them. She glanced back up at him and smiled, a little shyly. She didn't know why, for he had seen her nude before, but this time they knew it was real. Neither were worried about the future, because they knew their future would lie with each other.


	11. I Will Marry You One Day

_Chapter Eleven:_

 _April 19, 1912_

Rose felt people's eyes burn into her as she wearily walked around the shop. As she glanced at customers, their eyes darted away from her. Maybe she was just imagining it, or maybe she wasn't. She turned to see Jack as he picked out casual pants and shirts from the men's section.

Turning down the dress aisle, Rose ran her fingers over a selection of patterns and fabrics. She remembered the days when each and every one of her evening and day dresses were specially made for her so no one else would ever be caught in the same dress. A salmon pink dress caught her eye. It was simple yet pretty, something which Rose was interested in now. She didn't want to be weighed down by jewels and beading. Simplicity was new for her, but she liked it. She selected the salmon dress and then another in an aquamarine blue and a similar dress in a light green. She held the green against her and furrowed her brow. She was unsure of the colour, but she liked the dress. Without thinking too much more about it, she took the dress from the rack and threw it over her arm. She had a lot of shopping to do before the next day, for then she and Jack would be traveling to Jack's hometown of Boston.

She was nervous about being on 'God's good humour', as Jack had put it, but she relished the idea of life being unpredictable. Rose had rarely shopped for herself before and it felt good to be able to pick out dresses and materials which she liked, rather than what fashion or colour trends dictated. She selected several other dresses before carrying them to the clerk, who smiled, somewhat cautiously.

"Is this all, ma'am?" she asked, her arms folded.

"No. I would like a coat, shoes, and several hats."

After selecting three warm coats, two hats, and a few pairs of comfortable-looking shoes, Rose joined Jack at the counter. She knew the price of the attire would be expensive, but Jack had insisted he would pay. She knew she had little choice, for the only clothes she had were on her back and looked a little worse for wear these days. It was going to feel good to dress in something with a little colour. Jack had selected thin shirts for the warm climate in Santa Monica. He knew they would head there one day and he hoped that day would be soon.

Once they had left the shop, Jack took Rose to a small restaurant downtown. He was famished after all of the shopping. After finding a table in the most well-lit area, they ordered a little lunch. Rose found herself a little uncomfortable in the environment. Once again, she could feel people's eyes on her as she tried her best to concentrate on Jack.

"Jack, I feel as though people are watching me," she confessed. She knew it was probably her mind playing tricks on her.

"What do you mean?"

"Like this morning, in the store, while I was picking out dresses some people, especially the women, were staring at me, but when I looked back, they quickly diverted their eyes. Now the woman over there…" Rose moved her eyes in the direction of a woman sitting quietly in a corner with a glass of wine. She was obviously middle class, but thought of herself as something higher. "She won't stop looking at me."

"Don't worry. We'll be gone tomorrow and all of this will seem petty by then."

Jack did turn to see the woman in the corner, she stood as she finished the last of her wine and she left the restaurant without another glance over.

Rose sighed.

''He's not here, Rose. It's a long trip from Paris.'' Jack grasped Rose's hand over the table. ''Even if he was, do you think I would let him near you?''

Just hearing Jack's words made the world a little brighter. She told herself to stop living in fear and yet she kept slipping back. She needed to stop.

"Jack, I cannot wait for tomorrow to come. I want to see everything!" Rose grinned excitedly.

"You will. I promise you. We'll head to Boston and then Santa Monica-the pier, the roller coaster, the cheap beer we spoke about. All the while, I'll be there, charcoal in hand, watching you in awe as I sketch you." Jack laughed.

"Thank you, Jack, for everything. I mean that. If for any reason we part-" Rose trailed off and Jack looked at her with concern.

"What makes you think we'll part, Rose?"

"I'm just saying these things happen and if that happens to us, then I want to take the time to thank you now for utterly changing my life around for the better. You taught me about things I didn't know existed. You showed me what it feels like to be loved. You made me feel love and you saved me in every way."

"You don't need to thank me. Yes, some people may part, but we won't, I swear. Someday, I'll marry you, Rose. I'll make you happy if it's the last thing I do."

Rose's mouth dropped open a little at his words. He meant them, she knew. She could feel tears filling her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away.

"I'd like that." Rose smiled.

After they ate their lunch, Rose returned to the hotel while Jack had headed to the store to buy a few necessities for their trip, such as soap and toothbrushes. While he whistled and walked down the street, he saw the paper boy standing in shorts, a small jacket, and a flat cap. He looked scrawny and like he hadn't eaten a good meal in days. Feeling sorry for the boy, he tossed him a full dollar and took a paper. The boy's eyes lit up, as if his Christmases had all come at once.

"Thank you, mister!" he shouted after Jack, who turned and simply smiled. He stuffed the paper into his pocket for now. He had little interest in the news. He knew the Titanic still held the main headlines and he had no intention of reliving it. He proceeded on his journey to the store before heading back to join Rose at the hotel, whistling. He felt happy today. Maybe it was the fact that he was going home, or just simply because he had Rose in his life. Pulling the newspaper from his pocket, he gave the headline a once over and almost fainted at what he saw.

 _Search for Rose DeWitt Bukater Switches to New York_

Stopping immediately, he scanned over the small print.

 _Seventeen-year-old Rose DeWitt Bukater, fiancée of Caledon Hockley and daughter of Ruth DeWitt Bukater and the late Richard Bukater, was last seen in New York the day after the sinking of the Titanic. Miss DeWitt Bukater had last contacted her mother aboard the Titanic, telling her she was going to return to Philadelphia, but she never returned. She was feared dead until she was spotted by several locals._

 _"It was definitely her. I've seen her pictures in the papers. I recognised her instantly," one woman commented. Another man said he spotted her in the company of an unknown gentlemen entering a building in downtown New York. Caledon Hockley is now hiring private investigators to find his missing fiancée._

He stopped mid walk and felt his heart bang in his chest.

He picked up his speed into a sprint and gazed around him, making sure no one would see him. Rose had been right. All of those people this morning had been staring at her. She wasn't just imagining it. One man had seen them enter the hotel together, so anyone, including Cal, could know where they were. Jack felt his body overcome with worry. He ran as fast as he could back to the hotel. He had to get them out of New York fast if they were to stay safe. Their train would leave the next day at ten o'clock sharp for Boston. Until then, they would have to stay indoors at all times with the door locked.

Upon reaching the hotel, Jack glanced around quickly, making sure no one saw him enter. Rose was asleep on the bed when he reached the room. Her hair was wildly spread out around her head. She looked so peaceful. He hated to disturb her, and even more than that, he hated having to tell her about Cal now being in the same city. He could feel his hands shaking. Ever so gently, he shook Rose's sleeping body. She awoke slowly, a small smile on her face.

"Jack…" she murmured, a little sleepily.

"Rose, I have something to talk to you about-well, to show you." He didn't want to make her upset and frightened again, but he couldn't lie to her. "Rose, I don't wish to lie to you, but I don't wish to upset you, either. You have a right to know, I wish I wasn't the one to show you…"

Rose sat up from the bed, not fully understanding Jack's words. He was confusing her. She didn't like the serious tone to his voice and had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

"Rose…" Jack closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Cal's in New York…looking for you…" With that, he handed her the paper and she took it shakily.

Once she saw the headline, she broke down once again, Jack seeing the broken young girl she had been when they had met, all of the memories coming back to haunt her once again. She leaned against the wall for support, bending over double to stop the aching of her stomach, once again fighting the memories. He reached out to her and she flinched at his touch, something which frightened him. "Rose. Don't shun me. I won't hurt you," he whispered. "I promise, my darling. I won't hurt you." With that, she surrendered her body to him and he pulled her closer as she cried into his shirt.

"Why now? I was so happy!'' she spat. Jack had never seen her so angry.

"So do I, Rose. But he won't find us. We're going to be long gone this time tomorrow, and there's no way he'll know where."

"He'll find me, Jack. He'll slaughter me."

"No. He won't find us. I won't let him near you. To get to you, he'd have to kill me first, Rose."

Her guts felt wrung out. She was tired of the familiar aches and pains. She just wanted to be free from pain and to live the simple life she had always wanted.

"Maybe I will always belong to him, Jack…maybe I'll never escape."

"Yes, you will." Jack shook Rose a little and it shocked her. "You will never belong to anyone. You will escape. You have. Tomorrow, it's just you and me all right?''

Rose could feel his eyes piercing hers. He could see right through her and she knew that. He was the first man to have ever made her feel like this. He was the first man she had loved, the first man she had kissed and the first man she had fully given herself to, and she hoped he was the only one…

She felt herself calm a little and she tried to catch her breath after her hysterical tremors of minutes before.

"You and me.'' She repeated. The words sounded sweet to her. Jack nodded to her and touched her face gently.

"Forever, Rose. One day you'll be completely happy. I don't know when, but you will. I promise. I can make you happy. I want to marry you, Rose…"

A tear slid down her face and Jack gently wiped her tear away. Her breathing was erratic once again as he gently kissed her forehead. Momentarily, her pain ceased and they were the only two people in the world.

"I will marry you, Jack…one day…"

Jack smiled at her and kissed her eyes, then her cheek.


	12. A New Day in Boston

_Thank you to everyone who is still reading this!_

 _I have to just wish you all a fabulous Christmas, I hope you eats lots, party lots and find peace, love and get a nice present or two ;)_

 _Chapter twelve: A New Day In Boston_

 _April 20, 1912_

The train chugged endlessly through towns and cities. The sunlight streamed through the windows, causing both Jack and Rose to squint. Their train had left New York at ten o'clock AM and was due to arrive in Boston around 1:30 PM. Rose felt a mixture of excitement and fear. Heading out to Boston with Jack was something she had been looking forward to for days, to making a new start with Jack, but knowing Cal was looking for her was something which had almost destroyed this new life which she was making for herself.

When Jack had handed her the newspaper, she had felt like giving up, almost knowing he would find her, but Jack had given her hope. Jack had noticed that Rose was unusually quiet today. He knew why, of course, and wished he could do something to change it, but he knew he couldn't. Their hands were entwined and he gently squeezed her hand, as if to reassure her. Her head turned and her eyes fell on his. He smiled a little and so did she. Sleep hadn't come very easy the night before for either of them; Rose's worry about Cal had kept them both awake. It seemed surreal to be here, on another train, heading to another place with Jack, it was just ten days before that she was on the train from London to Southampton to board the Titanic alone.

The train pulled into Boston on time and the passengers disembarked. Stepping from the train, Rose glanced around at the new scenery. People waiting for trains, people waiting for passengers, workmen, and children were all scattered around the platform. The air felt cooler, but the sun still shone and Rose felt the heat on her cheeks. She turned and found Jack stood beside her with their two suitcases. She felt a hint of excitement inside her and she smiled at Jack. Maybe this would be the new beginning she needed. She had never been to this City before and that was part of the charm.

The taxi ride to Jack's house took less than ten minutes. The roads were more narrow than she remembered in New York and the houses seemed a lot smaller than she remembered back home. After turning one last corner, a very large house came into view. It was three stories high and white in colour, surrounded by small bushes right up to the porch, and had three steps that led up to the door. The house itself looked fairly new and modern compared to other houses she had seen on the ride here.

Stepping out of the car, Jack helped Rose out before taking in the fact that he was home. This was the place he had left as a boy and returned as a man. Memories of his Uncle Eric immediately returned to him, and for a brief second, it had felt like he had never left. Closing his eyes, he felt a rush of wind wrap around him and blow his soft, sand-coloured hair around. He felt as though he would open his eyes and his Uncle Eric would be there in front of him, waiting for him to return, a glass of brandy in one hand and his pipe in the other. Turning to Rose, he felt peaceful. He knew that bringing her here was something he had to do. It was his duty to protect her now, and he would. He never imagined he would return with a woman in tow.

"So, what do you think?" Jack smiled at Rose, indicating the house as he took both their suitcases in his hands.

Rose smiled, looking over the house. "It's lovely, like a house from a dream or something."

"Yes. It's home," Jack said, almost to himself. Today did feel like a dream to him. Returning to Boston was something he never thought he would do after his uncle died, and now, here he was, two years later, with Rose.

Walking up to the porch, Jack dragged the suitcases and Rose followed. She took in everything around her and the soft scent of flowers filled her nostrils. When Jack had finally opened the door, she stepped inside the house before closing the door. Jack stopped in his tracks; memories filled him and rushed back to him rapidly. He still expected his uncle to be there, but he knew he wasn't.

The downstairs had a kitchen, parlour, dining room, and study; the stairs were located straight in front of the door and the second floor had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Taking in everything around her, Rose wandered into the parlor. It was very spacious. Almost everything was made of wood. She heard Jack's shoes on the wooden floor and turned to see him smiling.

"This is the parlour," Jack said, his eyes wandering around the large room. His voice almost echoed. "Uncle Eric and I would play a lot of poker at the table in here."

Rose smiled, removing her hat and allowing some of her hair to fall freely around her face. "I can imagine."

Flicking the light switch, Jack realized there was no electricity in the house. "Shit. We'll have to make do with the fire tonight and tomorrow I'll sort the whole situation out."

Rose nodded. She felt slightly strange in Boston. Maybe it was due to the fact that she was here with Jack, and it was a new place for her. She took in the surroundings of the parlour, the high ceilings and dark oak wood. A large dining table sat to the right of the room, while a cream divan couch sat to the left in front of a large fireplace. Above the mantel was an oil painting of a man and a woman, both very young and, by the look of them, very much in love. She wondered who they were.

Jack went down to the cellar and found some logs to start the fire with. He also came across a few unopened bottles of wine. He smiled to himself. After he had got the fire started, he poured both him and Rose glasses of wine. It would be cold tonight, and with no electricity, they would have to sleep in front of the fire until tomorrow. After grabbing some blankets, Jack and Rose sat in front of the fire, glasses of wine in hand. It was almost dark out and the room was still and silent except for the flickers of the fire. The flames from the fire illuminated Rose's face in the most angelic way, and Jack could still not believe she was here with him. Her attention seemed to be elsewhere, gazing upon the oil painting above the mantelpiece. It almost spoke to her.

"That's Uncle Eric and Aunt Joan," Jack told her, as though he was answering her question.

Rose turned to face Jack and narrowed her eyes. "They look so young."

"Yes. They were no more than twenty when they sat for the painting. They were on their honeymoon in Italy." Jack took a sip from his glass and he, too, glanced up at the photo. With the only light in the room coming from the flames of the fire, the painting almost looked haunting.

"It's so beautiful," Rose said.

"It is. Uncle Eric never stopped looking at it. He loved her so much." Jack shook his head, memories of his uncle surrounding him. Jack wished he was here to meet Rose.

"What happened to her?" Rose questioned.

"She died in childbirth." Jack raised his eyebrows and sighed. "She was only thirty-five. Uncle Eric told me of how they had longed for a baby since they married. I think they were just eighteen when they married." He paused for a moment, thinking of himself and Rose. They, too, were young and been through so much. "Uncle Eric had this house built for her when they moved from New York to here."

Rose shook her head. She thought of her father, her poor father who had died just the year before. She missed him so much; her heart still ached for his arms to be around her. She was close to him, and she thought that somewhere, deep down, her mother resented her for that. Rose had never felt a connection to her mother. The same hair colour was all they seemed to share. Her father was the one who had doted on her when she was a child. A single tear slipped down her face. She hadn't thought about her father in a long time. It was almost forbidden when her mother was present.

"What's wrong?'' Jack pulled Rose closer to him. She felt the warmth from his body and immediately rested against him. She shivered and he pulled the blanket further around her body. "Don't cry, darling. What's the matter?"

"I just…well…was thinking about my father. He died last summer. I just miss him. It's only now that I have ever really thought about him since his death," she sobbed.

"He really wouldn't want you to cry over him. He would want you to smile and remember all of the good times together. It's what I do when I think of my folks." Jack smiled. He stroked her hair gently.

"What happened to your parents, Jack?"

Resting back against the divan, Jack took a deep breath. "Ma died of heart failure when I was fourteen, and Pa died while he took me ice fishing three months later on Lake Wissota."

Rose's hand went to her face. "Oh, my. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right now. I never blamed God for taking my parents away so young; I know they were meant to be together. I was sent to live with Uncle Eric, as I had no other close family in the area. Pa and Uncle Eric hadn't spoken in years, but were close as boys, from what I was told. When I came here, I didn't know what money was. Growing up in Chippewa Falls, we weren't poor, but we got by, and now here I was, living in this amazing house, with Uncle Eric fixing me up to wear tuxedos and teaching me how to pomade my hair." Jack smiled, remembering how awkward it had been for him to adjust to this life. But he was grateful to his uncle, and always would be. "When he died, I felt like I had lost everything, which is why I left Boston. There was nothing to stay here for, and I had the money to travel the world, so I did."

He lowered his head for a moment, memories coming back to him. Gently, Rose touched his face. It seemed to bring him back to the present. "You have me now, Jack." Rose smiled. Taking Rose's hand and gently grazing it with his lips, Jack moved closer and for a brief second allowed their lips to touch.

"I know. That's why I am so lucky.''


	13. Making Plans for the Future

**Chapter Thirteen: Making Plans for The Future**

 **April 21st 1912**

Rose felt the blanket against her bare skin. Opening her eyes, she suddenly felt a chill from the cold room so she pulled her arm into bed under the blankets and felt Jack pull her closer to his bare chest even though he still slept. Rose turned on her side and faced Jack, she disturbed strands of his hair and a section fell into his face and gently she brushed it away. He was so young yet he looked younger. Just seeing his face in the morning made her so happy.

The first night at the mansion had been cold but Jack had promised to visit his friend Keith who would sort out their electricity and amongst other things. Since arriving in Boston, Rose had felt a lot more relaxed knowing she was no longer in the same city as Cal. She didn't know the time but it was a little light outside, or so it appeared to be through the large thick grey curtains, she did know it was cold though. Jack flickered his eyes open a few seconds later and they met Rose's and with that a small smile crept across her face. She couldn't explain the happiness she felt just waking up next to him feeling their naked bodies pressed together.

''Morning.'' He smiled, attempting to stretch out his right arm which was underneath Rose. 'You fidget too much.' He grinned to her.

''Sorry did I wake you?'' She asked, not wanting to have disturbed his sleep but it was bizarre for her to wake up in a strange house.

''No don't worry about it.' 'His voice softened and he pulled Rose closer to him. ''Damn I need to sort out some heat for this place.'' Jack too felt the chill.

''Are you going to see your friend today?'' Rose asked, remembering bits of their conversation from the evening before.

''Yes I have some old business to tend to, but I won't be long darling.'' Jack told her, sitting up in bed he glanced around the room to find any items of clothing which Rose had pulled off him the night before.

Rose sighed as she propped her pillows up and sat upright in bed. ''You mean I can't come with you?''

Jack turned to see the worried look on Rose's face and he reached out his hand to stroke her cheek. ''That's your choice. I just didn't think you'd want to that was all. Its just boring old talk between Keith and I, although I do believe Keith to be married now.''

Rose pulled the blanket around her body and thought about what she could do. She didn't want to be seen out in public too much in case Cal had sent whoever he had hired Boston way even though she knew it was unlikely at that time, but in the next few weeks Cal could coming looking for her. ''I'll stay here.'' She said quietly.

Jack had secretly hoped she would decide to stay indoors. He didn't want any harm to come to her, and hated leaving her in the house alone but he wanted to speak with Keith alone.

Keith Levett was an old friend of his Uncle Eric's and had been his lawyer for the final years before his death so he was someone who Jack trusted. Jack had planned to speak to Keith about selling the mansion and hopefully finding a quick buyer so it could mean Jack taking Rose out of Boston sooner.

''I'll go boil some water on the stove and run you a bath, maybe that will warm you up.'' Rose smiled nodding, she glanced around the floor for the dress she had taken off the night before. Finding it, she quickly pulled it on best she could and shivered pulling the blankets from the bed back around her body and following Jack down the stairs.

In the daylight, the mansion seemed a lot less creepy to Rose. She didn't know what it was but their was something eerie about the place, especially the large oil painting in the living room.

Half an hour later Jack had ran a bath for Rose and set out to Keith's promising he would be back within the hour with some dinner for them both. The walk to his friends didn't take long for Jack to walk but been back on the streets of Boston so soon was something which he hadn't expected. Nothing had changed since he had left and he wondered if his hometown in Wisconsin had changed since his departure.

The morning chill wrapped around Jack and he did up his top button of his coat to attempt to keep himself warmer. He wondered what Keith's reaction to him turning up at his house like this would be. He smirked thinking about it.

Keith could be trusted so Jack had decided to tell him the truth about everything including Rose not been his wife, although sometime in the near future he did plan to propose to her, he wanted it to be at the right time and somewhere special.

Keith's mansion loomed a few houses away and Jack could not believe he was actually back here in a place he never thought he would be. He dragged his feet up the steps to the house before knocking loudly three times before an answer finally came. Keith answered the door, his face had almost fell to the floor when he saw Jack Dawson stood before him.

''Oh my Lord.'' He ushered Jack inside of out the morning chill. Keith was a tall man around 6ft tall, he had a lithe figure with a slight round belly. He was around 40 years of age with dark hair although tufts of grey could be seen here and there. He hugged Jack, making his feel most welcome. ''What brings you back here Dawson? I thought we'd seen the last of you.''

''Well I decided I couldn't run away forever Keith.'' Jack told him truthfully. Voices could be heard from the kitchen and Jack swore he heard a baby's cries.

''Come on in, see the wife…its been a while since Betsy saw you Jackie.'' Keith was about to lead Jack into the kitchen until he stopped him.

''Listen Keith, I'd love to see her again but can I speak with you in private first? I have some business matters I would like to discuss with you.'' Jack watched as Keith's fell serious.

''Oh of course. This isn't just a social visit then?'' Keith pointed to a dark room which Jack assumed was Keith's office. Inside it was full of dark oak wood with books and a desk in the centre of the room. Keith flicked the light switch and clicked the door shut behind him.

Jack removed his hat placing it on the desk.' 'Sorry I can't stay long, I left Rose alone and she's new to the city.''

''Rose?'' Keith raised his eyebrows. ''The wife is it?''

Jack smiled a boyish grin, something Keith hadn't seen in a long time. ''No, no, not yet.'' He shook his head. 'Someday hopefully.' He added, watching Keith turn to him surprised.

''Am I hearing things Dawson? You found a girl?'' He grinned. ''Well, well…what is she like this girl?''

''Her name is Rose.'' Jack corrected. He was about to open his mouth to describe the wonderful woman that she was but then realised the real reason why he came to see Keith. He could talk about Rose forever and never grow bored. ''Actually, can we talk. But come around later to meet her.'' He offered.

Keith rummaged in the top drawer of his desk and found his spectacles. ''Oh I will Dawson don't you worry. So how can I help you?''

Jack took a seat at the opposite end of the desk. ''Well I, I want to sell the house as soon as I can.'' Keith almost dropped his pen.

''Sell it? But why you only just arrived back here. The house was your uncle's.''

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, he had gone over this decision many times in his head but he knew it was the right thing to do.

''I know Keith, but please just do as I say. You are the only person I trust with such things, I know I can turn to you.'' Jack ran his fingers through his hair.

''Look…the truth is I love Rose, more than anything in this world….'' Jack struggled with his words. ''She's hiding from someone, her ex fiancé and I have to keep her safe. I'd rather die than let anything happen to her…I need to get her away from here. I want to take her to Santa Monica, down by the beach and marry her.''

Keith glanced at Jack for a few seconds as though he was crazy but then he knew there was nothing he could do to stop him. He was a young man, obviously in love. ''You know I'll do what I can to help you.'' He sighed, before hesitating his next question. ''This…ex fiancé? What's he like?''

''Caledon Hockley is the name. It's all you need to know. He's searching for her because she left him in Paris. He was in New York the last we heard but please keep an eye out.''

Keith nodded. ''Of course. I will make a note of that name.'' He found his pen in the pot and a blank piece of paper. He wrote the name in bold letters.

''Now about this house…I need a price, a date when you have to be out for and such things.''

Jack thought for a moment. How long would he need to plan out a trip to Santa Monica. ''Give it a month…no more than two. I want a small place in Santa Monica, something homely. You got any contacts out that way?''

''I have some.'' Keith rubbed his temples, it was almost too much to take in. ''I will try to sort it out for you.''

''Thanks. Oh and there's no electricity or food at the house.''

''Don't worry about that, the wife has plenty left over from breakfast you can take that home. I'll come over later with some dinner and to meet the girl.''

''That's sorted then.''

Jack stood from the upholstered chair and scraped his hair from his eyes. Keith noted that he wasn't staying long. He stood with him and removed his glasses.

''So you're off?''

''Yes. I told Rose it wouldn't be long.''

Keith nodded. ''Well either way, its good to see you. I am glad you're back, even if it isn't for very long.''


	14. I Want To Belong To You

**Chapter fourteen: I Want To Belong to You**

 **Later that same day,**

Rose glanced in the mirror of the living room and pinched her cheeks slightly. She wore no make up but her hair had brightened and curled just how it used to now that she had given it a good wash and comb and the dress she wore felt a little tight but she felt good. Tonight she was meeting a friend of Jack's, she felt a little nervous for some reason as though it was his family she was about to meet. Jack appeared behind Rose in the mirror and he said nothing, he placed his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. He glanced at her reflection in the mirror and she stroked his hands tenderly. A knock sounded at the door interrupting the moment, startling Rose so much she jumped. Jack smiled to her, letting her go he went downstairs to answer the door.

''Good evening Jack.'' Keith stepped inside the door, he removed his hat and hung it on the pegs which were located just inside the hallways. In his hands he carried two paper bags, which he thrust into Jack's hands. ''The wife sent chicken slices and some gooseberry pie.''

''Thank you.' Jack took the food graciously. 'I want you to meet Rose.''

Slowly she emerged from the living room, her hair curled and loose to below her shoulders, she wore no make up but her beauty was natural. She stepped forward to Keith, holding out her hand.

''Mr Levitt it's a pleasure to meet you. Jack told me all about you.''

''Oh he did now, well he didn't tell me just how lovely you are. Kept that one quiet Jackie.'' Keith shook her hand, he was stunned with this young woman Jack had fallen in love with.

''I told you, you had to see for yourself.'' He grinned, he turned towards the kitchen to heat some dinner up for himself and Rose.

''Say well, just how did the two of you meet?'' Keith asked, not preparing himself for the silence which fell upon the three of them. Rose's eyes darted to Jack's. She didn't know what he knew or if he wanted Keith to know anything deeper. ''Have I said something I shouldn't?'' He laughed nervously.

''No, no. I just...Jack and I haven't been asked that question before, and to be honest it has quite a long answer.'' Rose told Keith. ''To cut a very long story short, we met on board the Titanic.''

Keith stuttered for a few moments. Of course he had heard all about the sinking, read the papers and the chilling accounts, the survivor stories and knew there was a court hearing which was continuing in New York at the moment but never in a million years did he think Jack would have been on board the ship. ''For heavens sake Jack, why didn't you tell me this earlier?''

Jack placed the chicken on the counter in the kitchen before stepping towards Rose, he placed his arm around her shoulder. ''We haven't told anyone Keith. We cannot even bear to think about it.'' Tears shimmered in Rose's eyes and Keith regretted even mentioning anything.

''I'm so sorry.''

'Don't be, we have to talk about it sooner or later.'' Rose told him. ''Perhaps you would join us for a drink?'

Over the next two hours, Jack explained to Keith exactly how he had met Rose. He went into detail about the horror of the sinking resulting in Rose breaking down in tears, the memories of the tragic night still obviously very fresh to her. Rose told Keith of Cal and how she had left him in Paris and now he was looking for her. He was her biggest fear, she couldn't imagine ever returning to her mother and to Cal now that she had found Jack but she trusted him more than anything else in the world and knew that he would keep her safe no matter what.

''Don't worry Miss. If I hear anything I shall divert him in another direction. I won't hear of a man looking for a young lady like yourself. He sounds like absolute-'' He was about to swear and then realised there was Rose present.

''That's why I want to get things moving as soon as possible for us. I need to get Rose somewhere safe.''

Keith drank the last of his wine before heading towards the door. ''You know me Jack, I will keep my word.'' He tossed his hat onto his head. He glanced towards the living room where Rose was sat but lowered his voice, indicating for Jack to come closer.

''I do suggest you marry her before you move to Santa Monica. If her ex fiancé does turn up here, he has no right to have anything to do with her then.''

Jack glanced into the living room at Rose, she sat limply on the sofa, she was worn out. ''I will marry her when she is ready Keith, I cannot rush these things with her.''

''I will do what I can about sorting out a place in Santa Monica as soon as possible. Something small and simple you said?''

''Yes, somewhere we can be happy. Somewhere simple so she can have the kind of life she always wanted.''

Keith saw the way young Jack looked at Rose. He readjusted the hat on his head. ''You love her don't you?''

''Yes. I do.''

Keith sighed. He had known Jack a number of years and watched him go from a very unsure young boy, an orphan and then live a life of luxury with his Uncle who he was sure he had truly looked upon as a second father just as Eric doted on Jack as the son he never had.

He nodded taking one last look at Rose before opening the door to the house, letting the evening chill inside. ''Take care.'' He nodded before leaving the house. Jack crossed his arms, feeling just how cold it was.

''I'll see you later.'' He called after Keith.

Rose was quiet, she felt numb and tired. Jack touched her hand gently and she turned to him, her eyes red and teary.

''What were you two whispering about?'' She asked, her voice barely audible. Jack didn't know she had heard their quiet talking.

''Just business, you wouldn't be interested Rose.'' He leant forward to kiss her but instead she quickly got to her feet. She felt irritated at Jack, he sounded just like Cal used to when he was with his 'business friends.'

''What's wrong?'' Jack reached out to her.

''I'm not stupid, I know you two were talking about me, I saw Keith looking.'' She burst. ''And all of this business stuff, you sound just like Cal.'' She began to walk away from Jack, but he quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. He had never seen her angry before.

''You really want to know what we were talking about?'' He had wanted to keep it a secret but realised it would be harder than he thought. He felt terrible lying to Rose even though it wasn't a huge lie.

''If it was about me then yes.''

Jack sighed for a moment. ''I am selling the house Rose. I'm finding us somewhere in Santa Monica so that we can move within the next month.''

''Jack…you…you cannot sell your house.''

''I can and I will.'' Jack grabbed her hands in his. ''Don't try to talk me out of it Rose.''

''Not for me.''

''Rose, I would die if it meant making you happy.'' He told her, he could see the tears shining in her eyes. ''Look, I just want us to be happy. To live the life we talked about on Titanic.''

''Jack…'' Rose attempted to speak but she couldn't. Shock had overcome her, words failed her.

''I want that life, Jack. But you cannot just give up the house. This is something which you had before me, with your Uncle. This is a family home.''

''And you are my family now.'' He touched her face. ''I have nobody else, Rose. Nobody. I meant it when I said it would be me and you.''

Rose closed her eyes. She realised just how much he had thought of this. She wouldn't change his mind. She calmed in that moment when she realised just what he was doing for her.

''I'm sorry, for what I said.''

''Its all right, you were right. I shouldn't have lied about it. There should be no secrets.''

Rose agreed with a shake of her head. Jack tilted his head to kiss her just once.

''Keith said that I should marry you so if Cal ever came here then you would be mine legally.'' Jack told her. ''But I don't want you to ever belong to anyone except yourself. I want to marry you Rose, but I want it to be perfect and nothing short of what you deserve.''

Rose leant against Jack, overwhelmed once again. ''I see his point, but I the thing is I want to belong to you.''


	15. A Scare

**Chapter Fifteen: A Scare**

 **Three weeks later, May 1912**

Rose hummed softly as she found some flour in the larder before rummaging in the top cupboard for something to measure it with. In recent weeks, Keith's wife Betsy had taught her several easy recipes so now while Jack was at Keith's sorting out paperwork, she had decided to cook him something for when he returned. Their lives in recent weeks had been nothing short of perfect and even though Boston didn't feel like much of a home to Rose, she was happy to just be with Jack.

She had found herself enjoying her own company as Jack had invited Keith over, she had enjoyed reading and writing. She had read the local newspapers and even ventured shopping the odd occasion by herself. The normal things which she had never done before in her life and yet she found herself to enjoy.

It was just beginning to grow dark when a small knock sounded at the door of the Dawson house, she didn't usually answer so late but something told her to do so.

Wiping her hands down the apron which Betsy had loaned her, she swatted some curls away from her face and wiped her forehead feeling sweat trickle down her face slightly from the heat of the oven. The knock sounded again and Rose opened the door.

''Mother?'' Rose turned pale as if she had seen a ghost. Ruth Dewitt Bukater pushed past her daughter allowing herself into the house.

''Don't just stand there girl, let me in. It's biting out there.'' Ruth eyed her daughter and glanced around the house.

''Mother, what are you doing here?'' Rose felt her strength drain away. Was Cal here too? ''How did you find me?''

''My goodness girl, do you not know what trouble you have caused. Boarding the Titanic? Leaving Cal alone? Your name wasn't even on the survivors list, I thought I had lost you.'' Her mothers eyes glared at her sharply and Rose wondered if her own mother would have even cared if she had gone down with the Titanic.

''Oh mother, would you have even cared? You just want me to marry Cal for his money and to safe the family name.''

''Rose. What's gotten into you? You are my daughter and a woman about to be married for heavens sake.'' Ruth eyed up the house. ''But then I find you here, with some boy named Dawson.'' Ruth then eyed the state of her daughter. ''Good grief, look at the state of you.''

How did her mother find her? Was she seen or followed? ''How did you know I was here?''

''You were seen out with that boy.'' Ruth's voice was full of contempt. ''But I warn you Rose, Cal is on his way here soon and he will find you. Its just best that you come with me now back to the hotel where is safe for you. You are lucky Cal would even want to still marry you after you left him in Paris, hitting him with a vase.''

Rose laughed at her mother, guessing Cal didn't tell Ruth the whole truth. ''No mother. Do you really think I would return to Cal after what he did to me in Paris?''

Ruth said nothing as if waiting for Rose to speak. ''No I guess he told you nothing. Not that he attacked me and made sexual advances. That is the reason I hit him mother.''

''Oh don't be so ridiculous Rose.'' Ruth glanced to her daughter in disbelief. Her fantasies really had run away with her mind. ''Cal wouldn't do such a thing. Do you think he would risk his reputation like that?''

Rose folded her arms over her chest and leant against the banister which lead up the stairs. The dreaded feeling she felt when she first saw her mother had faded, she now just felt disbelief that her mother wouldn't even understand her reasons, or even listen to her truth.

''Cal tried to have sex with me and because I refused he forced himself onto me, the only thing I could find to stop him happened to be a vase so I hit him with it. I didn't mean to hurt him but I had to stop him, mother.''

Ruth looked into her daughters eyes for a few seconds and silence fell over them. Ruth sighed a little, and Rose thought for a split second maybe her mother would come around and listen to her for just once, maybe she would believe her. ''Oh Rose…'' Ruth began. She shook her head a little. ''I do wish you would stop been so childish.''

Rose unfolded her arms and felt her body clench. Her own mother didn't even believe her. ''Childish? How can you not believe me mother?''

''Because I don't know who you are anymore Rose. You haven't been my daughter for a long time.'' Ruth stared at her icily. ''I'm going to ask you one more time Rose. Are you coming back to the hotel with me?''

''No I'm not. I'm here with Jack.'' Did her mother just think she would leave Jack and return to Cal? She could feel herself shaking, she hoped her mother wouldn't tell Cal of her whereabouts, she didn't want him to come near Jack.

Ruth turned her back to Rose, hesitating she placed her hand on the handle of the door as if she was deciding whether or not to actually simply walk out. Sighing, she turned to her daughter and saw the vulnerability in her face.

''Rose…I won't tell Cal I found you here. I won't mention I know of your whereabouts. He will find you though, he has private investigators combing every part of this town. This is your last chance.''

Rose hadn't known the extent of Cal's desperation to find her. She could have broke down but she chose not to give her mother the satisfaction. She folded her arms over her chest and closed her eyes attempting to focus on something else other than the situation which was happening around her.

''Thank you mother.'' She said simply. Ruth turned her back to Rose, pushing down the door handle she stepped back outside into the cold air and didn't even turn back once to say goodbye to her daughter. Rose slammed the door, not wanting anyone to see her face. She could feel her hands shaking and didn't know what to do. Her good mood had disappeared, just moments before she had been trying to cook something nice for Jack but now she felt sick to the bottom of her stomach.

Tears escaped her eyes rapidly and her heart sunk, what if they were found? She leant against the wall, rolling her head around against it, she sunk to the floor and covered her face with her hands as she cried, feeling her body shake and misery overcome her once again. Rose heard something bang against the door on the outside, and she gasped as she immediately looked up removing her hands from her face, her heart beat faster as she watched as the door handle turned and the door opened. Jack walked inside, upon seeing Rose slumped on the floor he quickly dropped his briefcase to the floor before coming to her, kneeling beside her. Relief washed over her just by his presence, but it didn't stop the tears that came.

''Rose? What happened?'' His voice soothed her. He removed a piece of hair from her eyes seeing just how red they were.

''My mother was here a few minutes ago. Cal is here and looking for me.'' She sobbed and he pulled her to him.

''Oh shit.'' Jack's eyes widened. He would have to get them out of there sooner.

''My mother said she wouldn't tell Cal where I am, so that may prolong him finding me Jack, but its only a matter of time.''

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and quickly thought. He would need to get them out of Boston tonight. Shaking his head, he moved to sit directly in front of Rose. ''Listen to me.'' He touched both of her hands. ''I'll call Keith, you stay with him tonight alright? Tomorrow we'll leave and go to Santa Monica.''

Rose sobbed a little before raising her head to look at Jack, his face was serious. ''But I have no money, nothing at all.'' Rose told him.

''Don't worry about that, I never want that to be an issue with us. I know you won't like this but I can buy us a place there, get us settled.''

''But Jack…'' She was about to protest but knew she wouldn't win. She felt weak from all of the running she had done in previous months and now it had caught right up with her. ''What about my things here?''

''I don't want you to worry about anything darling. I can pack everything.'' Jack stood up and pulled Rose up with him. She fell against him slightly dizzy and he caught her in his arms. In his eyes she could see just how much he loved her and she knew how much she trusted him. He had got them to safety on Titanic and he had saved her in every other way, she would have faith in him for the rest of her life. ''He's never going to come near you Rose. I will make sure of it.'' He told her, almost whispering. ''I made you that promise on Titanic, and I won't break it, ever.''


	16. We've Got Some Living To Do

**So yes, it gets a bit violent towards the end.**

 **Chapter sixteen: We've Got Some Living To Do**

Pulling the last dress of Rose's from the closet, Jack stuffed it into a small suitcase which once belonged to his uncle. He didn't care if they were creased he just wanted to get Rose of out Boston. Keith had collected Rose a few hours before and taken her to his mansion so Jack could collect their things and join them later. The next morning they would catch the first train away from here, even if it wasn't to Santa Monica. Jack had to think on his feet, something which he was good at. He had travelled a fair bit and remembered visiting places which Cal wouldn't even want to be seen in.

Fastening the suitcase, he closed the door shut on the wardrobe and took a moment to glance around the bedroom which he and Rose had shared for the past few weeks. It had been surreal to be home again and a part of Jack was going to be sad about leaving it behind him but he knew he had to do what was best for Rose. A sudden gust of wind outside sounded and heavy rain could be heard bashing the window.

''Great.'' Jack muttered to himself. He grabbed his woollen thick coat and pulled it on over the top of his thin white shirt, it would be freezing out there. The weather for spring had been strange there.

Picking up the two suitcases which he had packed, he felt their weight but ignored it as he glanced around one last time to see if he had left anything. The furniture would be transported to wherever he and Rose settled but for now the house would stand empty and unused. Flicking the light switch out, he carefully treaded down the stairs in the dark, the only light was front the gas lamps outside which shone through the windows. He cursed himself for not turning a light on but he reached the bottom and placed the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. He glanced into the direction of the study and creaked the door open. In the dark, the house felt creepy and Jack could understand why Rose had never really settled there. He was just about the flick the light switch on when he thought he saw a dark figure outside of the window in the garden. Squinting his eyes, he looked again. A dark figure wearing a top hat and coat was stood in the garden looking directly up at the house. Who was it? How did he get into the garden. Jack's heart beat faster. It wasn't Cal was it? Slowly Jack moved to the side of the window to attempt to get a closer glimpse, he didn't switch the light on knowing he would be seen. Pressing his back to the side of the wall next to the window, he slowly leant forward to attempt to see but the figure had moved in the direction of the front door.

''Shit!'' Jack cursed.

Quickly he picked up the receiver of the telephone and dialled Keith's number. Keith answered, but Jack quickly spoke knowing there was no time in case it was Cal outside.

''Keith its Jack. There's someone at the house, I don't know who it is, it could be Hockley. Come quick and fetch the police. Don't worry Rose though. Hurry.'' With that he replaced the telephone receiver back and was just about the leave the study when he saw the mans figure at the front door.

He felt his heart thump and quickly thought of something which he could defend himself with if it came down to it. Jack found his way to a small cupboard in the corner of the study and remembered his uncle kept the baseball bats in there at one point, but was unsure of if they would still be in there. Feeling around he pulled out something long which felt like it would do, it wasn't until he pulled the entire object from the cupboard he realised it was a shotgun.

''Holy shit!'' he gasped, checking if the gun was loaded but it wasn't. Jack's eyes widened in shock, he never knew his uncle had such things. The front door clicked open and Jack suddenly froze behind the door of the study. The floor was wooden so any movement he made could be heard especially the creak of the floor. He held the shotgun tightly to his chest fearing movement he made would inform the person that the house was not empty. It was late now, although not yet midnight.

''Suitcases? So they thought they could get away.''

Jack heard the voice speak and it was then he knew it was Cal. He no longer feared the man who had allowed himself into his home. He was glad Rose was safe and out of the house. Jack knew Hockley had come to find her. Footsteps started up the stairs and quickly Jack tiptoed out of the study and into the landing area. He was unsure of what to do but he hoped Keith would turn up soon so they could catch the bastard. Flicking on the light switch, he glanced upwards to see Hockley half way up the stairs.

''So you're Caledon Hockley?'' He shouted. Cal turned on the stairs to see a young man at the bottom. Immediately he laughed, this Dawson fellow looked like he was barely out of school. He descended the stairs and Jack saw his face come into full view. His face was exactly how he had imagined.

''Jack Dawson.'' Cal laughed and Jack almost thought he was mild. Someone who would be all mouth and no action. It didn't look as though he would want a fight with his hair so perfectly styled and the clothing which he wouldn't want to get dirty. This could be easy to handle.

Out of nowhere, Cal lunged Jack in the stomach and immediately he crumbled to the ground feeling the pain. He felt as though he was going to be sick, he struggled to breathe for several seconds and his eyes blurred from the unexpected punch. He gritted his teeth, knowing he would more than likely have a fight on his hands.

''So where is she Dawson? Don't lie. Save yourself the pain.'' He threatened. Jack struggled to get to his feet.

''I won't ever tell you.'' Jack found the strength from somewhere to walk closer to Cal. He knew what to expect this time and he had been angered, he wouldn't allow Cal to know where Rose was. ''Rose is my wife, and there's nothing you can do to stop us been together.''

''Bullshit!'' Cal spat.

''Believe what you want Hockley. You won't find her and I won't let you.'' Jack told him. He reached out slowly for the shotgun which he had leant on the side of the stairs and quickly bashed it into Cal's kneecaps sending him flying to the floor. Cal crumpled in agony and clutched his knee, quickly Jack picked up the two suitcases and was about to open the door when he heard something click behind him. Turning he saw the gun which Cal held to him as he struggled to stand.

''You leave this house. I will blow your brains out. You won't tell me where Rose is but I will make sure you never see her again.''

Dropping the suitcases, Jack turned to face Cal. He limped towards Jack. He felt his heart drop but he didn't believe a word of this man's outward threats. ''You wouldn't dare shoot.'' He taunted.

Cal held the gun almost to Jack's skin and he felt Cal's hand wrap around his throat. ''Oh I dare.'' Cal pressed the cold metal to Jack's forehead and he closed his eyes quickly expecting death to come to him within the next few seconds.

Cal tightened the grip around his throat and Jack felt himself choking, he attempted to cough but nothing would come out. He struggled and tried to breath but he physically couldn't.

Cal watched as Jack's face fell redder as he squeezed tighter. Jack felt the life slowly drain from him, his feet almost didn't touch the ground and when he reached out his hands for something to grab but there was nothing within his reach. The door swung open and Rose flew in. Jack saw nothing except the blurriness of her face and a flash of red.

''Cal no!'' She screamed. ''Let him go, please.'' She pleaded. She attempted to pull Cal away from Jack but he simply back handed her and a slap landed across her face.

''You shut up and get away. I'll deal with you later.'' He spat.

From nowhere, Jack found the strength to bring his knee up into Cal's stomach and send him flying backwards and he tumbled backwards onto the bottom stairs. Rose felt her cheek sting as Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Cal.

Cal put up a good fight, obviously not used to losing. His good clothes were ripped, his body aching. Jack had enough, he couldn't take this anymore. The anger inside of him had boiled over way too much. Cal reached forward to retrieve the shotgun which Jack had dropped earlier, Jack lunged forward knocking it from his grip and the smug look was soon wiped away from his face. Rose screamed, not wanting Cal to hurt Jack. Jack felt the blood trickle from his nose from Cal's punch; again he lunged for him, knocking him into the table and throwing him over the table. Rose screamed to Jack to stop. Jack held Cal against the wall with his throat and he could only move his eyes. He knew what it felt like.

From somewhere, he got the strength. He lifted his foot kicking Cal in the stomach and winding him sending him flying backwards against the wall knocking the large gold mirror from the wall and it smashed over his shoulders and cutting his arms as it fell. Jack could taste the blood but he wouldn't give up yet, Cal came for him but this time he moved out of the way sending Cal crashing to the floor. He found his own gun there and shakily he got to his feet and this time he aimed it at Rose. She was the one he wanted after all.

Just as Cal was about to shoot, Keith entered with two policemen at that moment and Cal held up his gun to them all.

''Don't shoot. You are under arrest.'' One of the officers called.

Cal dropped the gun immediately, not expecting the authorities to have been involved. His reputation would now be in tatters

''You cannot arrest me.'' He shouted. ''I am Caledon Hockley.''

Both officers surrounded him and grasped his arms.

''We know who you are.'' Keith laughed. ''We know who you are very well.''

Jack pulled Rose to himself tighter as he felt her shake.

''Take the bastard away, get him out of my house.'' Jack ordered.

The two policemen wrestled with Cal as they handcuffed him and almost literally dragged him out of the house and down the porch steps. He shouted until he was thrust onto the cart which would take him to the station, protesting words about his lawyer and his name.

''He hasn't won this time,'' Rose called after him, ''he never will.''

Jack placed his arm around Rose's shoulder. ''Its his reputation he will miss the most.''

Jack touched Rose's cheek gently seeing the red mark where Cal had hit her.

Tears stained her cheeks and he pulled her to him once again as if he never wanted to let her go. Keith watched them embrace and knew how much Jack loved her, it was obvious. He smiled a little, he couldn't help it. At least now Cal had been taken away maybe they could make some sort of a life for themselves. Rose pulled away, wiping her eyes. Jack held out his hand to Keith who shook it.

''I can't thank you enough Keith.''

''Don't worry about it Jack.'' Keith watched as Jack placed his arm around Rose and kissed her hair. Now that Cal was gone would they be staying in Boston or would they still want to move away? ''Say Jack, the trip is all arranged for tomorrow. If you still want it that is?''

Jack glanced to Rose as if searching for some sort of answer from her face. ''Rose? What do you want?''

She said nothing for a few moments, she simply glanced around the house. ''You Jack. Just you and a simple kind of life.''

Jack nodded. ''We're still going Keith. We can't stay here. We got some living to do now.''

 **Woo I have finished the re=write. I do hope you have liked it as much as I did re-visiting it. Thank you very much for the comments.**


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